Gotham's First Family
by Yan Oddball
Summary: A series of one-shots focusing on the extended BMWW family and their adventures.
1. Chapter 1: Welcome to the Family

From the moment they first saw their baby sister in her mother's arms, their father draping a protective arm around both, Bruce Wayne's sons knew that they hadn't seen anything as beautiful as little Alexandria Wayne. Dick had more or less given up on maintaining any sense of composure, and he was cooing and making baby faces alongside Barbara at the baby. Both were secretly glad they'd left their son Carter with Grandpa Alfred at the Manor; the toddler would be having a jealous fit if he saw his parents now.

Jason and Damian were next as Dick and Barbara moved away to let the others see little Alex. They were holding it in better than their older brother, something they were initially smug about. Jason snickered when Diana nudged Damian to hold the baby, causing the young teen to shake his head in frantic panic, but he froze up himself on realizing that his new sister had somehow sneakily wound her tiny hand around his finger. His heart wanted to melt into a puddle of affection for the new kid; his head screamed at him to man up. He was the goddamn Red Hood! The toughest and scariest of the Batclan! He ate bad guys for dinner; Gotham's criminals pissed their pants the moment they heard him walking around the corner! How was it that a baby girl, adorable as she was, could gurgle at him and leave him a simpering simpleton? He glanced at his kid brother beside him and saw Damian having the same internal conversation as the boy stared at Alexandria.

Damian gulped audibly, and he was visibly and hilariously shaking from head to toe as he slowly reached out to pick up little Alexandria from his adoptive mother. Dick nudged him. "Dude, would you stop shaking like that? You're like a human vibrator."

Damian elbowed his older brother hard, a brief flicker of satisfaction across his face as Dick grunted in surprise. The boy's attention was returned to his younger sister soon after however, and he raised an incredulous eyebrow when he realized that the shaking stopped once his hands came into contact with his sister.

Damn, but she was brave, he had to give her credit for that. He had expected her to be crying, like every other baby that was not him, as she was brought into this world, surrounded by strangers. Not every baby could be like he was after all, even if she was the daughter of the Dark Knight and the Amazon Princess. However, she'd only cried once, wanting to be fed, before looking at her new family members, curiosity in her eyes. She gurgled happily as Damian warily ran a finger through the patch of soft downy hair on her head, inadvertently tickling her. He killed off the sappy smile that suddenly appeared and fought to remain on his face, arranging it back into his normal scowl. He too had a reputation to maintain.

His eyes narrowed as he realized that Alexandria still had one hand wrapped around Jason's finger. A sudden spark of jealousy flared to life inside him. Damian scowled at his older brother; Jason glared back in challenge. Oh it was on, Todd.

Damian slowly and deliberately took the baby girl from his adoptive mother into his arms, maintaining eye contact with Jason throughout. The movement caused Jason to take a step towards him, lest Jason lose the grip his sister's hand had on his little finger. Damian smirked at his older brother. Jason stared daggers at him. Bruce and Diana shook their heads in resignation.

On a sudden unspoken signal, the two warring brothers began tickling and cooing to their baby sister in baby talk, causing Alexandria to giggle happily, if in confusion at the sudden change.

Behind the two idiot brothers, the more sensible siblings stood behind smirking. Tim and Cassandra casually leaned against the wall, the latter shaking her head at Jason &amp; Damian's antics, the former awaiting his turn with his new sister while he held his wife's hand. It didn't take long. The baby broke into tears, confused by the minute by her older brothers' unspoken squabbling as they fought for her attention. Tim swooped in before either Bruce or Dick could, and cradled the baby in his arms, whispering to her in soothing tones and rocking her softly. She stopped almost immediately, to the chagrin of Jason and Damian, and gurgled contentedly at Tim before yawning. Tim grinned slyly at his brothers, who promptly scowled back at him, and waggled his eyebrows suggestively at his wife. Stephanie only rolled her eyes.

Clark, the only non-family member who Bruce trusted enough at that moment to be in the same room as Alexandria, had observed the whole scene with a raised eyebrow. He snorted in amusement as he came to stand beside his best friend. "You know your daughter's going to have all her big brothers wrapped around her little finger, right?" he asked Bruce. "Shouldn't be too hard, she's already done it with her dad."

Bruce grimaced, but didn't argue the point as he looked fondly at his new-born daughter. Clark was right, after all. "Well, at least she'll always have someone looking out for her."

Clark grinned. "True. I wonder how they'll react when she's old enough to date."

Five heads swivelled so fast to face him he could almost hear the synchronised crack of their necks. There was a sudden urge in him to run away screaming. His foot was nervously tapping out a rapid staccato on the floor and he was pretty sure he was in danger of having a pants malfunction at any moment. He focused his gaze at Diana, at the baby, at the presents left by the earlier visitors, at anywhere but Bruce and his children. _Don't look at the Batclan, don't look at the Batclan, whatever you do Clark, if you want to make it out of this room alive, DO NOT look at the Batclan!_

He looked at the Batclan.

Now Clark, as Superman, was a seasoned superhero. He was a founder of the Justice League, and had served as its leader from time to time. He'd gone up against the worst of villains, even toe to toe against Darkseid. Therefore, it went without saying that Clark did not scare easily. But five simultaneous full-strength Bat-glares from Bruce and his sons (and a very slow, very dangerous Bat-stare from Cass) would have given even the ruler of Apokolips pause. Anybody else would have been reduced to cinders in a puddle of escaped urine.

And then they would have left the unfortunate soul to the mercy of Alfred.

Diana tried unsuccessfully to smother the giggle that threatened to escape her as she looked at her husband and adopted sons and daughter, all ready to commit bloody murder on whichever idiot fool male who dared to lay a hand on their new princess.

"Date?"


	2. Chapter 2: Pant Sizes

**Universe 3576: Gotham City**

To hear Wyatt Franklin's granddaddy tell it, Gotham in the old days was heaven for small-time crooks like him. The city's veritable maze of dark and dank alleyways made for an easy occasion to ambush some fat whale, drag him into the shadows and fleece him out of whatever cash and valuables he had on him. The target would sometimes be accompanied by a female companion, either his wife or mistress/girlfriend who, on her part, would be decked out in jewellery and pearl necklaces like a human Christmas tree. It was a freakin' 2-for-1 deal, and the crook lucky enough to score a deal like that would be able to visit the Iceberg lounge every day for the next six months (inflation at that bloody expensive place hadn't kicked in just yet).

Burglaries and bank robberies were especially lucrative. These were the days before the introduction of WayneTech security systems; and the alarm systems in those days were laughably pathetic. They were still impenetrable to the average mugger, but any crook with a good crew, decent tools and the foresight to do _some _planning would be able to make a killing.

The icing on the cake in those old days was the Gotham PD of old. According to Wyatt's granddaddy, they were big on equality, a very admirable and modern trait in the old days. They were equally clueless dealing with the average alleyway mugging as they were with the average bank robbery. They gave equal treatment in the way they dealt with these cases; it didn't matter if you were a normal Gothamite or a rich businessman, they treated you with disdain and a lack of interest, always promising to get back to you but always taking their time to do so. They were equally accepting of bribes to look the other way; it didn't matter who the person handing the bribe was.

Then Thomas Wayne married Martha Kane. Lieutenant James Gordon joined Gotham PD as a young detective out of Chicago. Lucius Fox was personally promoted to the head of R&amp;D at Wayne Industries by Thomas Wayne himself. These people only had surface dealings with each other, and didn't really interact with each other much out of work, but the work that they did changed Gotham. Thomas and Martha rallied against the pervasive poverty that festered in Gotham; while Thomas saved lives in the operating theatre, his wife saved lives through her charity work. Thomas always made sure to assist her whenever he had a moment to spare, and it was a common sight to see Gotham's unofficial 'First Couple' volunteering at a soup kitchen one day and the refurbishment of an orphanage the next. They were not shy about getting down and dirty with their work either; many a time their beneficiaries found themselves with two extra helpers in the couple. While the pair worked to remove its ills, Thomas worked with Lucius to rebuild and improve the city's infrastructure. Thomas provided the ideas and the funding, and Lucius brought them to life with his technical expertise.

James faced a more uphill battle than the rest. The Gotham PD of old was a very corrupt institution, and an honest cop like him stuck out. The other cops tolerated him as long as he left them alone, but dropped case after unsolvable case on him each time he 'stepped out of line'. He didn't mind; these cases were finally getting the investigation they needed. By virtue of his example, Gordon slowly became a role model. The going was slow and tough, but Gordon kept at it.

The efforts of these few went largely unnoticed against the greater scheme of things, but they were no less important over the years. It made life easier for Gotham's citizens, and harder for people like Wyatt Franklin's granddaddy. A few years after Gordon had joined GCPD, muggings were still common, but the crooks were less brazen about it. Where once they would have accosted a victim openly, they did so now from the cover of the city's many alleyways, and always looked over their shoulders for any sign of the police.

Things were still bad, but there was hope.

But then the Waynes were shot dead in a mugging gone wrong. And just like that, the hard work that had gotten Gotham City on the road to recovery came crashing down. The crooks came back, emboldened. Two of Gotham's symbols of redemption and hope were gone. A simple shooting was all it took. It wasn't hard to return Gotham to the hub of crime and lawlessness it was meant to be.

But it was that incident which would change Gotham forever. A spark had been lit in the heart of a young boy; a spark borne out of tragedy, fuelled by anger over the rampant crime that had led to his parents' death, yet tempered by a faithful servant's love and duty towards him. Unbeknownst to many, the young Bruce Wayne grew up to become his city's protector, keeping it safe from within its shadows as Batman.

* * *

This was where things started to go wrong for Wyatt Franklin's granddaddy. Donny Franklin was a seasoned old criminal when the Batman first made his appearance, with only a couple more large heists to go before he called it a day. His family members were all career criminals, all of them having ties with the crime families in Gotham (mainly the Falcones). Being a criminal all his life, Donny wasn't used to the sight of a figure in black swooping down like a demented bat out of hell, especially on his last job. Hell, when he woke up that morning, being reeled in by a grappling hook to be left dangling from a rooftop gargoyle five storeys up was not part of his plans. After the third consecutive round of plummeting down four floors only to be zipped back up, Donny wasn't really sure which was the roof and which was the floor anymore.

What he was sure, however, was that the greasy chicken sandwich he'd ate earlier had evacuated his stomach via his mouth hurriedly and that his bowels were in danger of doing the same. The crazy demon who was tormenting him wasn't much of a speaker. He brought in his face close to Donny's terrified one.

"You're done robbing banks," he growled, before sending Donny freefalling again for a fourth time. The Batman stopped the fall in time and reeled in Donny Franklin the Human Yo-yo again. "Are we clear?"

Donny nodded frantically. Batman's face wrinkled suddenly as he sniffed the air, before smirking evilly. "It's too bad the shops are closed. You're going to have a lot of problems finding a shop open that sells size 35 pants. "

He let Donny freefall a final time, stopping the old crook's descent about a metre from the ground, before cutting the line, causing him to fall to the ground with a painful crack. When Donny rolled over onto his back to look up, the Dark Knight was gone.

Donny swore when he realized that his bowels had definitely evacuated, and Donny swore off crime that night.

* * *

While Donny swore to himself that he wouldn't be involved in any more capers, if only to avoid Batman, he had no problems with his son joining the family business. Freddie Frank Franklin, Donny's only son out of his brood of three, was a large man with arms that toed a fine line between brawny and flabby and bloodshot eyes that were the product of heavy drinking. He had the unfortunate bad luck of being named by his grandfather Jimmy (who fancied himself somewhat of a poet and had been hammered drunk when his grandson was born). He also had the unfortunate bad luck of not having his father's brain when it came to committing crimes.

Freddie was thus a regular in Gotham's jails, and was mainly used as an enforcer for one of the Falcone branch families whenever he was out. On this particular night, he was one of the muscle engaged to provide security for a large drug smuggling operation at the docks. The toy bunnies were stuffed with heroin, the teddy bears with meth. Everything was going well until about 12.30am, when the sentries assigned to the wharves suddenly went radio-silent.

The crooks knew what tended to follow, but even after all these years, facing the Bat or any of his protégés was a terrifying prospect. Carefully-laid out plans tended to be discarded with so much of a fleeting glimpse of a cape. There was safety in numbers, however, so the crooks began to cluster in tiny groups on their own, each numbering about six people. It was at that moment that the Batclan sprang into action.

Smoke bombs burst out where the groups stood, the smoke thick and choking. Figures dropped down silently from the surrounding containers, making short work of the crooks. Even before the smoke had completely cleared, the criminals were already trussed up on the ground, groaning in pain, with the exception of a few stragglers.

Having been on patrol, Freddie had luckily avoided the blitzkrieg attack from the Batclan and was running away as fast as his legs could carry him. A tiny smoke bomb exploded around him suddenly, and a foot tripped him up, causing him to stumble and fall. As he got up, choking, he was greeted by a sight that terrified the crap out of him.

To his left, Red Hood was sauntering towards him. He had put away his guns (which fired only non-lethal bullets nowadays), but was cracking his knuckles almost gleefully as he headed towards Freddie. Red Robin was just behind Red Hood, the younger man extending his bo staff with a sharp crack and a determined expression. Freddie looked to his right and let out an involuntary squeak of terror.

The new Robin, the perpetually pissed-off short brat who generally subscribed to a punch-first-ask-later policy, was marching towards him. The scowl on the ten-year-old's face grew more pronounced as the boy got closer, and he gestured impatiently to the Red team to let him do the questioning first.

There was to be none of that, however. The whoosh of a large cape behind him caused Freddie's stomach to clench in panic. He turned around slowly, and was greeted by both Batman and Nightwing. They were not even glaring, just staring at him, but in a way that caused his heart to pick up speed in panic. At this point in time, a pants malfunction was looking more and more likely.

The smart move was to stay still and submit to the interrogation. It seemed as if Nightwing would be handling the interrogation. He was physically closer to Freddie than Batman, and closer to him than Red Hood or Robin. In addition, he was one of the more…_nicer _ones (if you could call it that) of the Batclan alongside Red Robin so he would use a lot less physical force, if at all.

However, Freddie did not have his father's brain after all, and so chose to bolt. He was stopped by Red Robin who had coolly flung a throwing disc at his temple. Woozy, Freddie never noticed Nightwing grab him and hook him up to a line, the first hook through a belt loop and the second through the seat of his pants.

Nightwing nonchalantly fired the line up to the crane above them, causing Freddie to suddenly hurtle upwards until he was halfway up to the crane. The young hero pressed a button on a control mechanism, and Freddie fell again until he was hanging just above the ground. Nightwing only looked bored as he stood beside his mentor. "Where's the heroin?"

"Not telling you, birdbrain," Freddie managed to get out, still reeling from the freefall.

"Okay," drawled the hero, as he pressed the button again. Freddie let out a shriek of terror as he hurtled upwards again.

It took about a minute of screaming before Freddie finally realized that he'd stopped. He opened his eyes and spared a peek down. Nightwing and the rest of the Batclan were specks on the ground, but still close enough for him to hear them.

"Changed your mind?" called Nightwing. "You ready to tell us now?"

There was faint shouting from Freddie, with a sprinkling of curses thrown in, but it was not clear enough to make it out. Nightwing glanced at Red Robin, who shrugged, and at Red Hood and Robin, who both showed him the thumbs-down. Grinning, Nightwing pressed the button again.

When Freddie was at ground level, Nightwing walked over to the still-suspended Freddie. "Heroin?"

"In the toy bunnies," Freddie gasped out.

"Meth?"

"Teddy bears."

Nightwing turned to his mentor, who had apparently just received a message via the earpiece built into his cowl. "Batman?"

"Oracle said there's been a break-in at a jewellery store. One employee was critically injured and the robbers are making their escape."

He nodded at Nightwing. "We'll clean up the mess here and call Gordon. The three of you take care of the jewellery situation." His younger protégés nodded in assent and took off immediately. Batman and Nightwing turned to Freddie, intent on having a final word with him before they hogtied him up like the rest of the unconscious crooks.

There was a sudden rip and Freddie fell to the ground unconscious in an ungraceful heap, a large tear in the seat of his pants. Freddie was a large man, and his pants had not been of good quality, so it was not surprising that his pants had torn easily. Nightwing picked up the shred of fabric that had gotten stuck on one of the hooks, noticing the tag on it. He frowned, turning to the dazed Freddie.

"Man. Where the hell are you gonna find size 38 pants at this time of night?"

* * *

Despite his grandfather's and father's dismal attempts at crime when Batman was around, Wyatt still wanted to become a career criminal. He had big plans for the 21st century, and firmly believed he had the noggin needed to rise up to become a master heist planner. Nowhere near as good as heavyweights such as the Riddler of course, but good enough to comfortably get away with some lucrative grabs. So what if he was nineteen and barely scraped through high school?

He had the brains, man. He had the brains. He had a surefire plan to score the biggest Gotham bank heist in history. They'd be talking about him not just in Gotham, but in Kane County, Bludhaven…hell, even Metropolis! The money that he'd score would be able to buy him a spot at the Iceberg Lounge's VIP bar, where they had the strongest drinks and the prettiest cocktail waitresses!

He had the brains, but he sure as hell didn't have the luck! Somebody up there was surely jealous of his plans; how else would it explain him being unable to get a decent crew? How else would it explain him losing the tools he'd spent a large amount of money on? How else would it explain the getaway car he'd bought on the cheap suddenly popping a busted engine?

Screw it. He'd do the whole thing himself if he had to. The plan was foolproof after all; he was the one who had thought of it. The people who he had approached to join his crew had laughed at him, saying his plan was worthless and would get him caught within five minutes. He'd show 'em. Let them laugh at him when he was in some island in the Caribbean, sipping on cocktails.

Now if only he could just pick this lock and get the door to open…

* * *

As he worked, Wyatt thought he heard a tired sigh. He cocked his head to the side, trying to discern the source before giving up, shrugging. It wasn't long before he heard a second sigh, this one more pronounced than the earlier one. He ignored it too; it was probably just the wind.

"Seriously, dude, you've been at it for the past six minutes. Do you even know how to use a lockpick?"

Wyatt jumped up about a metre into the air in shock, brandishing the cheap switchblade he always carried around. The unseen voice snorted. "Really? A switchblade? Do you know how to use that too?"

Wyatt frowned. The taunting voice was female, and young. Younger than any of the female vigilantes that normally patrolled Gotham City, in fact. Hell, it sounded like a kid!

There was a sudden whistling in the air and a Batarang embedded itself in the wall in front of Wyatt; a warning shot for him to stay where he was. He wasn't going to stay around to get caught however, and bolted to his left. A second and third Batarang whistled through the air, this time pinning him to the wall by his jacket sleeves. He snarled in desperate frustration and tried to wrench himself free, to no avail.

Nightingale dropped down from the alleyway shadows, her hood up. The moonlight reflected off her domino mask's opaque lenses as she walked out of the shadows. Misdirection, stealth, camouflage, and especially the knowledge of how to strike fear into those who would hurt others; all these had been drilled into her since she started training at the age of five. Now, 7 years later, the youngest of the Batclan held herself well despite her young age. She still wasn't allowed to patrol solo just yet, but she had been patrolling with either, if not both, her parents for the past year or so.

And she was good. It was common knowledge that Nightingale was the daughter of Batman and Wonder Woman, and if Gotham's crooks had scoffed at her initially, they quickly revised their opinion once they realized she had her mother's strength, her father's cunning, and both their combat prowess.

Wyatt felt the first bead of sweat trickle down his back. Shit, this wasn't in the plan! If Nightingale was here, then Batman or Wonder Woman wasn't too far behind! Maybe both too! Shit!

Fear gives you a certain strength, and the fear of being on the receiving end of one of Batman's physical interrogations was enough to give Wyatt the strength to pull himself free and run like hell out of the alleyway. Nightingale never moved from her spot, but there were the beginnings of a smirk on her face. From the corner of her eye, she spotted two figures on the roof of a nearby building; one still hovering in the air, the caped one leaping down the building.

Wyatt looked back as he ran, making sure that the kid was not following him. Distracted, he ran straight into Batman with a painful thud. "Ow! Fuck!"

The original Batman blandly stared down at the groaning Wyatt and took a step towards him. "Don't cuss in front of my daughter, punk," he said. He noted with some satisfaction that Wyatt blanched immediately, the blood draining from his face. This didn't stop him from trying to act tough, and the kid pushed himself up with some difficulty. Wyatt was still brandishing his knife at Batman, but his hand was shaking. Bruce smirked. Cute.

Semi-retired or not, he was still Batman, and he still had it. Bruce took a few more steps towards the retreating Wyatt, making sure that the kid saw him cracking his knuckles. Wyatt gulped, and retreated further.

He never saw Wonder Woman descend from the sky, landing behind him, until he bumped into her. Wyatt gulped again, more audibly this time, and slowly turned around.

Many an unfortunate crook had been on the receiving end of the Bat-glare. It was legendary, and was spoken of in the same hushed tones as the Batman himself. Its powers were mythical. Legend had it that it could hit you from a hundred metres away, and that Batman could reduce a tough, grizzled and hardened crook who would sell his mother without a second thought into a crying baby with just a fleeting glance. If it was trained on you, really focused on you, you'd spill all of your guts within seconds before losing the ability to talk. Even the supervillains, the criminals who went in and out of Arkham regularly, didn't really like to talk about it. Oh you could get used to it, but it always made your stomach clench. So the Bat-glare was dreaded.

But nobody, absolutely nobody, warned them about the Wonder-glare. And when you combined both the Bat-glare and the Wonder-glare…

Wyatt whimpered as he slumped against the alley wall, the switchblade dropping to the ground with a clatter. His mouth moved soundlessly as the two Gotham protectors approached him. Wonder Woman leaned in closer. "You'll have to speak louder, we can't really hear you."

Batman turned his head to the side, just barely changing the snicker to a cough in time.

"I'm sorry…" squeaked Wyatt.

"Aw man!" Both Batman and Wonder Woman turned around to see Nightingale walk towards them, an annoyed expression on her face. She took one look at the dazed Wyatt and turned back to her parents, pouting. "You guys were supposed to wait for me; I wanted to practise _my _Bat-glare!"

Now it was Diana's turn to turn her head and cover her smile. Hera, her daughter was so adorable! Bruce only gave his daughter a self-satisfied smirk. "Oops. Sorry, sweetie. Next time, then."

"Hmph," she grumbled before turning her attention back to Wyatt, giving him a quick punch to knock him out. "And I wanted to scare him enough to wet his pants, but you went ahead and did my job for me!"

"Honey, I still don't get why you're so obsessed with making them wet their pants," said Wonder Woman as she took out a pair of Batcuffs from Batman's utility belt and cuffed the now unconscious Wyatt to a staircase railing.

"It's a rite of passage! At least that's what they told me."

Batman raised an eye in suspicion. "Alright, what have your brothers been telling you now?"

"Every Batkid has to make a crook wet his pants at least once! And it's better if you can have your own unique style! That's what Dick and Jay said!"

"…unique style," said Wonder Woman. She cast an incredulous look at her husband, who shrugged. Their daughter nodded her head enthusiastically, and carried on.

"Uh huh! Dick usually yo-yos them up and down on a grapple line! Jason just cracks his knuckles one by one really slowly. Tim…um, Tim hacks into their personal records and recites out whatever embarrassing detail he can get his hands on! Damian's boring; all he does is growl or make that 'tt' sound and the crooks just faint."

Bruce had his head in his palm, shaking it in resignation. He raised it to look at his youngest. "What about Cass and Stephanie?" he asked mildly.

Nightingale visibly perked up at the mention of her sisters and acted out Black Bat and Batgirl's tactics to her parents. "Ooh, Cass is real cool! She just stands there and slowly turns her head to stare at you, like a – like a tiger! I guess Steph doesn't really count, 'cos she usually prefers to just kick them in the balls."

"Language, young lady."

"Sorry, Mom. 'Crotch'; I meant she prefers to just kick them in the crotch. Tim usually tries to stop her if he's around though."

"And so you wanted to try and make a personal style and test it out on this kid then?"

Nightingale turned to her father and beamed, glad that he had cottoned on so quickly. "Yup!"

Bruce shook his head in resignation. "Well, you're going to have to wait for another chance then. Let's go back to the car. We can call this in to the cops."

"Dad, don't forget the pants!"

He turned back, frowning. "What pants?"

Nightingale sighed exasperatedly and pointed at the large wet patch on Wyatt's jeans. "Replacement pants for him!"

"Sweetie -"

"Dad, we talked about this! It's not nice to leave crooks with soiled pants in a crime scene like this! Especially with the recent rainy weather! And winter's coming soon!"

"So just tell them to brace themselves. I'm sure their equipment won't freeze off."

"Pleeeeaseee…?" she wheedled.

Bruce let out a long-suffering sigh and trudged back to where he parked the Batmobile. Diana watched in silent amusement. "Fine," her husband said as he grumbled to himself.

"You're the best Daddy! I think he's a size 29!"

Diana patted Bruce's shoulder in sympathy as he walked past her. "The things we do for our baby daughter, right Bruce?"

"She's too nice, just like you!" he moaned in reply. "I miss the days when I could just punch them senseless and leave them tied up for Jim. Do you know how much I've spent on pants for crooks this past month alone?"

"I heard you Dad! Stop complaining!"

* * *

**A/N: Upfront I just want to say that any civilian/character names (not just here but also in my other fics) are fictional and just lifted off the top of my head; I'm really not good with coming up with names heh. Any relation to any real person is purely coincidental and I apologize if I accidentally offend anybody.**

**To those who have reviewed, thanks so far! As always, please R every review always spurs me to better my skills and improve so that I can tell a better story for my readers to enjoy! **


	3. Chapter 3: Maternity Wear

**Universe 3576: Gotham City (Wayne Manor)**

"I'm home!"

Jason quirked an eyebrow in confusion as he wandered around the Manor, wondering where everyone had disappeared to. "Dad? Diana? Alfred!"

He poked his head into the kitchen. "Tim? You there, bro? Damian! Dick!"

There was still no reply. Strange. Breakfast was still on the table, and he counted three plates, all with half-eaten food. The food was already cold, so they had been gone for quite some time. He noticed the platter of egg sandwiches at the centre of the kitchen island. His stomach rumbled in quiet protest, and he shrugged to himself. "Don't mind if I do," he said to himself, snagging one of the sandwiches.

There was the sound of a toilet flushing from the bathroom nearby, and he turned his head to see Stephanie walk out, wiping her hands on one of the hand towels. "If it isn't my favourite future sister-in-law!" he grinned, giving her a friendly hug.

She gave him a lopsided grin in return. "Your only future sister-in-law at present, Jay. At least until Damian tries his luck again in asking Kara out on a date. Have you seen Tim? We were supposed to meet up here first before heading out for a date."

"Funny thing is, I was just gonna ask you where the others were."

She shook her head in confusion. "That's what I asked Cass when I arrived fifteen minutes ago."

"Cass is here?"

"Upstairs in her room. Taking a shower after training, after she let me in."

Both cocked their heads at the sound of someone coming down the stairs. A short moment later, Cassandra walked into the kitchen, still towelling her wet hair. "Hi, guys."

"Hey sis. You seen the others?"

Cass shrugged. "Bruce and Diana went out early this morning to see Dr Mid-Nite; I'm not sure why exactly. They came back about three hours ago, with Dick accompanying them. They seemed flustered, but excited all at the same time. The moment they came back, Bruce dragged Alfred, Tim and Damian down to the Batcave. They've all been down there since. Are you thinking of going down there?"

Jason kept quiet as the wheels turned in his head, before his face broke out in a sudden grin. "Nah, I got a better idea. Can you pass me Tim's laptop?" He gestured at the said item, still lying there on the kitchen counter.

He quickly booted up the laptop and activated a program. "While I was still…a rogue, let's leave it at that…there was an opportunity for me to reconcile with Dad. I was still a stubborn jackass, but I wasn't going to be the asshole who turned down an olive branch. So I met him in the Cave. It wasn't pretty; we had some harsh words."

He continued tapping out commands on the laptop. "But…I managed to sneak in a hidden cam that tapped into the Cave's power grid, just to know what was going on. I was trained by him, after all. Like it or not, we all develop a few control-freak tendencies. Let's just hope it still works…"

The camera feed popped up, showing a clear picture of the small group huddled around the main Batcomputer. Jason grinned. "Bingo."

The three peered closely at the picture before them, trying to make sense of it. Tim was seated at the computer, typing intently as Bruce, Dick and Alfred stood on either side, giving comments about whatever he was working on. Damian was standing a short distance away, but seemed no less involved in the conversation. Diana stood behind the group, observing their antics. She was sporting the exasperated but fond grin that usually appeared whenever Bruce or any of her boys (Jason included) were cooking up some hare-brained scheme. Jason noticed this, and shrugged. "At least it doesn't look serious."

Stephanie nudged him impatiently. "You get any sound on this thing?"

"Yeah, yeah, hang on."

There was some static, before the voices of the group started to filter in. Dick's voice was the first that they heard.

"Needs more blue. Nightwing blue."

Bruce snorted in derision. "If it were up to you, everything in my house would be blue. Answer's no."

"Oh come on, blue is a refreshing, calming colour. That's the best colour for her to wear, given the circumstances."

"Still no." There was some silence before Bruce spoke up again. "Could use some more black though. Add it in, Tim."

Dick threw up his hands in frustration. "You gotta be kidding me! Black? Again? Why?"

"It helps to hide her, it's slimming, and she looks good in it."

"She looks good in any colour, Bruce!" This earned him an affectionate hair ruffle from a grinning Diana as thanks. "Especially blue, if I might add," finished Dick in a huff.

"Don't care. I'm paying for it, not you. More black, Tim."

Tim's nose wrinkled in distaste at his father's instructions – clearly he agreed with Dick – but he shrugged as he followed them, keying in a few more commands. Once done, he leaned back in the chair as the others looked at the results.

Dick's shoulders slumped in grudging defeat. "Fine, maybe black works better in this case."

Bruce said nothing, but his smug grin was more than enough. "Right, let's talk armour."

Alfred seemed more involved in this part than the others, to the surprise of Jason, Cass and Steph. "It would have to be full-body armour, of course," he was saying as he pointed to the screen. "Lightweight ceramic plating, Kevlar lining – nothing but the best for Mrs Wayne. Master Tim, bring the focus back down to the stomach area, if you please. Let's add some more armour there."

There was typing, then Tim looked up at Alfred questioningly. "Is this enough?"

"More layers, please."

More typing, then a pause. "Ok…like this?"

"More."

"How about this?"

"More armour."

"Now?"

"More."

This went on for a few more minutes until Alfred was satisfied. The rest though, all had their noses upturned in dislike. Dick was the one to state the obvious. "That…is a lot of stomach armour."

"Naturally, Master Dick, we have to go to great lengths to ensure that Mrs Wayne is protected."

"Isn't this overkill, Al?"

Alfred looked positively offended by this last statement. "Nonsense!" he exclaimed indignantly. "Mrs Wayne is carrying my surrogate granddaughter, and since we all know that she's not going to give up being Wonder Woman until she cannot completely avoid it, then naturally we must ensure her complete protection! The notion that you do not want to ensure the best protection for your unborn sister – for shame, Master Richard!"

Dick had backed away, sufficiently cowed into submission, and was now looking down at the floor, hands buried in his pocket, wearing the same face he had worn as a kid when Bruce had discovered he and Wally West had taken out one of the Batmobiles for a spin, only to drive it into the lake. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, to the amusement of the onlookers, Jason, Cass and Steph included.

Unfortunately, Damian chose that very moment to break the mood.

"If she wears this right now, she'll look bloated," he said, direct and brutally honest as always. "I'm not an expert on these things, but I believe the natural order of things is for her to wait until the 7th or 8th month for her to start looking this…round."

"Hippolyta'd kill you if she heard you say that about her daughter," muttered Tim.

"She'd have to get in line," added Diana, clearly offended, although she knew that Damian didn't really mean it.

Damian was aware he was currently digging his own grave, and despite his young age, he knew enough to know he wasn't going to win this one. "I'll shut up now. Sorry, Diana."

"That's all right, dear," said a mollified Diana, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

Bruce was all business as he turned to face them, intent on bringing the conversation to a close. "Okay, we've settled on the design for Diana's maternity wear for everyday wear," he said briskly, with Alfred nodding in complete agreement beside him. "Let's talk armour for normal missions, then for Justice League missions, then ones for hostile environments."

He continued rambling before he noticed his three sons all staring at him, slack-jawed. "You mean," Tim managed to get the words out, "you mean…all this while, we weren't designing her combat armour?"

Both Bruce and Alfred looked at him disdainfully as if he had asked the stupidest question in the world. "Of course not," said the younger man, with an air of finality. "I just said: Everyday wear."

Dick had his head in his hands. "We're gonna be stuck in here _all day_."

The look on Bruce's face clearly said he didn't care. "Don't think you lot are excused from patrol tonight either, I'm bringing my beautiful wife out to dinner to celebrate the fact that we're going to be parents. Jason, Cassandra, Stephanie, I know you're listening. Same goes for you three."

Batman's six protégés let out a collective groan as Bruce continued on with nary a care in the world. "Right, let's get started proper on designing Wonder Woman's new combat armour. I'm thinking we need more black…"

* * *

**A/N: I was actually in the middle of writing a different chapter for this one-shot series when the idea for this chapter suddenly popped up in my head out of nowhere. Spent the next few hours writing it all down before it disappeared, and I really enjoy the result. Hope you all enjoy reading it too!**

**As always, please read &amp; review...maybe even recommend! Thanks all!**


	4. Chapter 4: 9 Days Apart

**A/N: I've noticed that BMWW writers tend to categorise the Bruce/Diana dynamic in one of two ways. The first is that Bruce Wayne marries Wonder Woman and it becomes public knowledge. The second is where Bruce and Diana both maintain a separation of their civilian and superhero identities ie Bruce Wayne and Diana Prince on one side, and Batman and Wonder Woman on the other.**

**Personally, I prefer the second. I'm a bit uncomfortable with the first categorisation because of the possibility of writers unconsciously painting Diana as in love with Bruce but still having that hot-and-heavy tension with Batman that we all know and love. From there, it's really not hard for any character to figure out that Bruce and Batman are one and the same. Therefore, that categorisation is a bit awkward, but that's just my opinion.**

**In any case, my stories will focus on the second categorisation: The world knows that Bruce Wayne and Diana Prince are together, and that Batman and Wonder Woman are together. What they don't know is that they are one and the same. **

**This doesn't mean that I don't want to explore what a BMWW fic based on the first category might be like, and that is this chapter. Consider it an AU within an AU.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Universe 3576: Gotham City**

Rebecca Tan had been with Wayne Industries fresh out of college, starting out as a young intern hired directly by Thomas Wayne himself. She'd proven herself time and time again, and was eventually promoted to be his executive assistant. When Thomas and Martha Wayne were murdered, she'd been on maternity leave. The years after were tough for her and her colleagues, as the whole company mourned their beloved boss.

It was only when the Waynes' son Bruce returned to reclaim his birthright as the head of Wayne Industries that things began to look up. Because Thomas trusted Rebecca, Bruce trusted her as well, and had no problems reinstating her as his executive assistant. Rebecca, who had seen the young man grow up before he left and treated him like one of her own sons, had no problems with this.

Like many of her colleagues, Rebecca was thrilled when news broke that Bruce Wayne was engaged to Wonder Woman herself, Princess Diana of Themyscira. It was past time Bruce settled down anyway, and while it seemed an unusual match initially, no one could deny that the two were very much in love with one another. Even the most jaded of Rebecca's colleagues agreed: what Bruce and Diana had was true love.

Rebecca considered it one of the highlights of her working life when she received the invitation for their wedding, handed to her personally by the happy couple themselves. The wedding itself was beautiful, not a flashy affair like those held by many of Bruce's peers, but a simple and no less grand event held on the island of Themyscira. To be one of the privileged few invited to the island, and able to be in the same room as the Justice League itself…only the graduation of her sons was considered to be a prouder moment for her personally.

Bruce and Diana settled into married life wonderfully, managing somehow to find time for themselves amidst his busy schedule and her duties as a founding member of the Justice League. Rebecca was truly happy for Bruce, as his marriage became the pivot with which his family life turned for the better. Diana's warm presence was the catalyst in repairing his relationship with his estranged adopted son Jason, and her kind personality mellowed the prickly Damian. Richard and Timothy both adored their adoptive mother, and Diana was usually the one who could get the reclusive Cassandra to smile more. Rebecca was happy, not just for the Wayne family, but also for Alfred, who walked around these days whistling cheerfully, and who seemed to look younger since the marriage.

* * *

In all the years Rebecca had served as executive assistant to Bruce Wayne, she had never seen him like this. Rebecca had been one of the rare few who realized that the vapid and shallow playboy persona that Bruce had cultivated throughout his adult life was just that – a cultivation. She knew that underneath it all, the true Bruce was an intensely private person who only showed his true self to the few people he trusted and loved. Rebecca counted herself lucky to be considered one of them.

Over the years, she had learned how to read between the lines of his body language, learned how to discern his moods, knew what to say or do to lift his mood whenever he seemed down. This new mood of his, though, was different…although it wasn't really hard to figure out.

It was kind of cute, really, seeing him like this. Rebecca idly remembered a past conversation with her mother-in-law years ago, when the old lady had seen the same indicators in her son when Rebecca was on an overseas business trip. He had been easily distracted, lost in his own world, didn't feel like eating, answering in either grunts or monosyllabic sentences and generally being glum about everything in general. In short: Wife Withdrawal Symptoms.

It was a week ago, about two months after Bruce and Diana had returned home from their honeymoon, that he had come in to work wearing that face, chauffeured by a smirking Alfred. To Rebecca's surprise, Bruce had come to work that Monday morning accompanied by all five of his children, all of whom looked concerned yet amused about something. Bruce got out the car slowly, robotically. It was as if a light in his eyes had been switched off. His gaze was focused on nothing in particular, and it took a full minute of forceful nudging by Tim before he remembered to get his briefcase from his son. Tim shook his head, and shared an exasperated look with Dick. Seeing that Bruce had still not made a move, Damian rolled his eyes and started to push his father towards the main entrance, which was comically hard given the fact that Bruce was quite sturdy and Damian (despite being very fit for his age) was still only eleven.

Jason was a bit more direct than his brothers, and he clearly relished the chance to whap their father upside the head to get his attention. His grin grew wider when Bruce did not respond, the older manstill staring ahead aimlessly, and Jason rubbed his hands gleefully, taking another step towards Bruce.

Cassandra then did to her brother what he did to their father. She ignored his yelp of pain and accompanying scowl, and took Bruce by his hand, slowly leading him through the revolving doors of the entrance, followed by Dick and the others. Rebecca, who had observed the whole scene, raised an eyebrow at the still-smirking Alfred. "Is there something I should know, Alfred?"

"You'll have to forgive Master Bruce; admittedly he is a bit out of sorts at present."

"Is he alright?" asked a concerned Rebecca.

"Yes, he's just still in a bit of a shock. Mrs Wayne was called up on a sudden Justice League mission over the weekend. There seems to be a spot of trouble on the planet Rann, and she was asked to assist as a diplomatic mediator, accompanied by Black Canary and Martian Manhunter. The League has informed us that the mission will likely take a few weeks, maybe even a month," replied Alfred. "To say that he misses her would be an understatement," he added with a chuckle.

"Bruce, seriously, snap out of it man! That's the fifth straight wall you've walked into this morning alone!"

* * *

It was indeed an understatement, and Bruce missed his wife desperately. Nothing he did seemed to make things any better; in fact, every single thing he did seemed to remind him of his beloved Diana. He went about his daily business aimlessly, only shaking himself out of his funk during patrols and the occasional League mission. But once the last crook/villain was trussed up, it was back to the gloomy model that his whole family grudgingly endured (except for Alfred, who was enjoying this greatly).

For the first few days, there was no mistaking it: Bruce moped around. Everything that gave him joy or at least a sense of purpose did nothing to lift his spirits. Food held no taste for him, he might as well have just blended everything Alfred put in front of him into a shake and swallow it. Some days, he felt like doing so. Alfred made him pizza, and it tasted like paste. Life just wasn't the same without Diana there beside him.

"This is ridiculous, Alfred," he remarked to Alfred one evening over dinner as the butler sat beside him, sipping a cup of tea. "It's only been a week. I was a bachelor for years. Did just fine on my own. Why is this so hard now?"

Alfred said nothing, but continued to smirk over his cup of tea.

* * *

Bruce rolled out of bed one morning, still in a glum mood. He looked at the alarm clock and sighed. It was 7am. 9 days, 12 hours, 40 minutes and 37 seconds since she had left for Rann.

Oh yes. He knew exactly how long he'd been away from her. The temptation to suit up, hop on a Javelin, haul ass to Rann and find and kiss his wife soundly was there.

Bruce had to admit that he was thankful for the quiet patrol the night before. He and Tim had stopped one mugging, one carjacking and a rape attempt before they had decided to call it a night. Bruce had been looking forward to the few more hours of sleep, in the hopes that it would keep his mind off Diana. No such luck.

He sighed again, and shook his head. No point worrying about it. He had an important lunch meeting at one of the city's major banks later, so he had to have his head in the game. Bruce dressed quickly before heading out the door to where Alfred was waiting in the car. As he walked out, he noticed Tim and Damian in the kitchen eyeing him suspiciously over their breakfast.

"What?" he asked.

"We don't have to send you to work again while you're bumbling around missing Diana, right, Father?" asked Damian plainly. It hadn't taken long for Diana to work her charms on the young Robin, and Damian was now a much more relaxed and informal boy who was a lot more comfortable around his family. "Because that got really tiring," he added pointedly.

Tim nodded over his cornflakes, grinning. Tim and Damian getting along was an uncommon sight back in the day, much less them agreeing on something. Again, Diana's presence in their lives, even before the couple had married and were still dating, had clearly affected the Wayne family positively. Bruce didn't really care to dwell on it though, since he was still under the double-whammy of lack of sleep and missing Diana.

So he glared half-heartedly at his boys and strode out the door, ignoring their snickers.

* * *

One advantage of cultivating a playboy persona was that people were so used to the idea that Bruce did what he wanted; consequently, this meant that he really could do what he wanted on occasion. And on this occasion, all he wanted at the moment was a quiet ride by himself to the Gotham financial district so he could be morose by himself.

Alfred had dropped him off at the city outskirts, away from any curious busybodies. From there, Bruce had strolled to the nearest bus stop for the bus to Wayne Enterprises. His disguise was not much: a simple pair of shades and a slight change in his hairstyle, just enough to avoid people from immediately recognizing him. As he waited by the stop, he casually glanced at the headlines on the newspaper that the man beside him was reading.

A sudden screeching of tyres cut through the morning quiet, causing the few people standing at the stop to look up. A van pulled up to a noisy halt in front of Bruce, and a man in a balaclava got out the passenger door, brandishing his revolver straight in Bruce's face.

"Bruce Wayne," he smirked arrogantly. "Hands up. Get in."

"If I do that, I'll have to leave my expensive suitcase with the large check I was going to donate to the cancer research centre," Bruce challenged back.

"Smart-ass, aren't you?" The would-be kidnapper pointed his weapon at the man who had been reading the newspaper and released the safety on the weapon. "Get in, or I shoot him."

Bruce did as the kidnapper ordered, and was bundled unceremoniously into the van, his head covered in a hood.

* * *

17 turns in total, and a stretch of long road between the 15th and 16th turns that progressively got bumpier with each passing minute. A ship's foghorn sounded in the distance. The grinding of metal against metal. The acrid smell of chemicals – paint being the strongest. The smell of bleach was the next strongest, and all the while, the faint smell of the sea wafted in amongst them.

He was headed towards the docks, near the shipyards.

The road got progressively rougher – they were no longer on tarmac. The smell of the chemicals was harsher now, hinting of poor quality materials. Not the Wayne Industries shipyards then, but somewhere close by. A chorus of angry barking followed the most recent left turn; the van had inadvertently crossed into the territory of stray dogs. The packs normally gathered by the junkyards. There was only one junkyard by the docks, the others mainly at the industrial factories on the other side of Gotham.

Bruce kept quiet as he planned his next move. Even through the hood, he heard all that the kidnappers were saying.

"Wayne's quiet," remarked the driver, who seemed to be a young kid. Nervous, unsure of himself. Looked to the other ones for guidance. Inexperienced then; he was new to this.

"He's just scared shitless. Useless playboy coward like him; I wouldn't be surprised if he crapped himself. How the hell he scored a hottie like Wonder Woman I'll never know." The kidnapper who had pointed the gun at him. Arrogant, and likely overestimated his own abilities. Probably a criminal who managed to get lucky on a few occasions. Too bad he'd bitten off more than he could chew.

There was a third one, a quiet one. The only sound coming off him was steady, calm breathing, and the occasional shifting of a heavy weapon leaning from one shoulder to another. Chances were good that it was a rifle, and chances were good that he knew how to use it. He was likely a professional then, and therefore the most dangerous out of the lot. He would have to be subdued first.

It had been about 20 minutes since he'd been kidnapped. The moment he'd been bound and pushed ungraciously into the van, he'd quietly activated the tracker built into his cufflinks, triggering the silent alarm that would be transmitted to his Batman Inc. agents. They would be on their way, homing in on his location. It was possible too that some of the witnesses might have notified GCPD.

So Bruce kept quiet under the hood they had covered his head with, choosing to let the matter play out and let them see him as the cowardly useless playboy. No need to tell the world he was Batman, after all.

He felt the vehicle grind to a noisy halt. The noisy one got out, complaining all the while as he yanked Bruce out roughly. Bruce was still hooded but his training to become Batman had more than prepared him for situations like these. While the hood covered his face, it was made out of quite a thin fabric. This, coupled with the bright sunlight streaming in from outside, meant that Bruce could roughly make out where they were bringing him. He allowed himself a small grin. For a bunch that was capable of some horrifying crimes, it was somewhat reassuring to note that the majority of Gotham's crooks could be quite dumb.

The noisy one and the kid pushed Bruce toward a dilapidated warehouse, one that had been abandoned for a long time, by the looks of it. The quiet one followed behind them, keeping a close eye for any signs of trouble. Once inside, Bruce was shoved onto a chair and secured, before the hood was removed.

"All right, let's get this over with," he said, bored. "What exactly do you guys want?"

The loud crook held up what seemed like a burner phone. "Your money, Brucie, plain and simple. Got this phone from someone who works in Luthor's company. Paid a pretty penny for it, but hey, your money'll more than make up for it. Just key in your account number and this neat little gadget will do the rest of the work."

Bruce only raised an eyebrow in reply. If he was indeed telling the truth, then this crook was even stupider than he'd given him credit for. Assuming the burner phone worked, then any money transferred from Bruce's account would eventually make its way to Luthor and not him. This idiot actually managed to convince the other two to be part of his scheme?

Bruce weighed his options. Sure, he could wait for the Batman Inc agents, but he really didn't feel like sitting down and waiting for them. Besides, the noisy crook was annoying him to no end; teaching him a lesson might put him in a good mood, at least for the rest of the day. His hands were cuffed around the back of the chair, but were not secured to the chair itself. If he managed to get his hands free (which really was a piece of cake), he could take them out easily.

This was going to happen fast. The quiet gunman was the most immediate threat. His rifle was one of the latest carbine models, and he held it like he knew how to use it. Put distance between both of them immediately. The noisy crook was the next most dangerous, but the revolver was a notoriously slow weapon, and its owner was a typical thug-for-hire. As long as he kept moving, he would be able to take him out easily. Which left the kid; the more Bruce observed him, the more confident he was that the kid was a total amateur.

Decision was made. Bruce knew exactly what to do.

So when he sniggered at the noisy crook and refused to do what he asked, Bruce was more than ready for the loudmouth's retaliation. He bolted to the side, the bullet just barely missing him. He went straight for the crook, going in low, catching him in the ankles with a powerful sweep that knocked the crook flat on his ass. Bruce glanced up. The quiet crook had not moved, smirking at the sight before him, but the kid was fumbling for his own weapon.

Bruce immediately sprinted for the kid, bringing him down in a brutal shoulder tackle that he learnt from Diana during one of their sparring sessions. He followed up with another Themysciran fighting technique, an aggressive grappling manoeuvre that allowed him to disarm the boy and dislocate his shoulder. As the boy screamed in pain, Bruce allowed himself a small grin. Diana would be proud.

Loudmouth had gotten back up on his feet, and he roared in anger as he aimed his weapon at Bruce again. Bruce was ready, weaving from cover to cover towards his opponent until Loudmouth had used up all six bullets. Bruce made his move, this time with a jumping knee that smashed into Loudmouth's nose. He followed that up with one of Diana's favourite combos, a three-jab succession followed by a left hook and a right uppercut that lifted Loudmouth clear off the ground. When the latter got up, he was missing a couple of teeth.

"How…the…hell?" asked the shocked crook. Bruce only kept quiet, which only angered his opponent even more.

"You're just a playboy!" Loudmouth screamed as he threw blind punch after blind punch at Bruce. "A rich, useless boy toy! All you do is throw money into your stupid charity projects and sleep around with supermodels!"

Bruce felt the need to correct him. "Actually, I'm happily married now, so that last part doesn't really apply anymore," he quipped as he dodged every single punch.

"Shut up! You're supposed to be a fucking useless loser! Why the hell do you know how to fight?!"

Time to end this. He dodged the last punch and replied with his own in Loudmouth's solar plexus, before striking with another quick uppercut. He finished off with a backwards pivot that allowed him to drive his elbow into the crook's nose, sending him flying. He grunted with satisfaction at the results. A combo that he and Diana developed over time; he'd have to tell Diana just how effective it was.

"How…?"

Bruce walked up to Loudmouth. "I'm married to Wonder Woman. The Princess of the Amazons; the princess of a race of proud warrior women. Undoubtedly one of the best melee fighters on the planet, if not the finest. Did you think I wouldn't pick up some self-defense tips from her?"

He punched out Loudmouth, before turning to face the quiet one. The latter clapped softly, the cruel smirk on his face growing wider by the second. "Not bad, Mr Wayne."

"You weren't with him, were you?"

"Not really," said Quiet as he held up a strange device. "This baby here would have siphoned your funds from his burner phone into my account. You saved me the trouble of beating him senseless though; he was getting on my nerves. Now, give me your money."

"If I say no?"

"Last I checked, I'm the one with the gun, and I assure you that unlike him, I know how to use it. You have skills, but you can't dodge all the bullets. Need I remind you as well that you don't really have anyone coming here to rescue you?"

All of a sudden, there was an almighty crash as half the roof caved in. Bruce and Quiet only managed to get out of the way. The reactions on both their faces couldn't have been any more different. While Bruce grinned at the newcomer, the crook's expression was that of terrified shock.

Wonder Woman floated down, one hand resting on the pommel of her sword, the other gripping her lasso. Sunlight glinted off her armour and tiara, making for a very impressive entrance. "Really? Are you sure about that?" she asked the crook.

* * *

There was a time when Alfred might have been perturbed by the sound of the doors slamming open, by running feet in the Manor. That time, however, was when it was just him and Bruce, back when the younger man had been starting out as the Dark Knight. Over time, with the adoption of the boys and Cassandra, followed by Diana joining the family, the Manor had become a brighter, livelier and noisier household, and Alfred was happier for it.

So it stood to reason that Alfred didn't bat an eyelid that afternoon when Diana all but kicked open the kitchen backdoor carrying Bruce on her shoulder. He only raised an eyebrow from where he was at the kitchen counter, wiping it down. "Mrs Wayne. Welcome home!"

If Alfred noticed the fact that Bruce was a bit worse for the wear, sporting minor cuts and abrasions from being bound up by the burglars earlier, he chose not to bring it up. He was a bit amused though, seeing the predatory way the Manor's mistress was eyeing her husband. It had been 9 days after all.

"Alfred," she said, "please cancel all of Bruce's remaining appointments for the day…as well as for tomorrow. He will be otherwise…occupied."

Alfred ignored the frantic shaking of Bruce's head and the panicked look in his eyes. "Very good, Mrs Wayne. Shall I inform Master Timothy and Master Damian that they will be needing their noise-cancelling headphones tonight too?"

"That would be lovely, Alfred, thank you. Why don't you take the rest of the day off as well?"

"Dear me, that would be much appreciated, Mrs Wayne! It has been a while since I've had some time to myself. I will leave the two of you to it then. A request please: Do take care not to break Master Bruce while I'm away."

"Of course, Alfred. I'll return him to you in one piece."

Diana and Alfred smiled and nodded cordially at each other, before heading off in different directions. Alfred headed towards the front door. Just before he left, he turned behind to see Diana climbing up the stairs, Bruce still on her shoulder. To Alfred's amazement, Bruce was pleading at him silently with puppy-dog eyes, something he had not used since he was a boy, begging the older man to save him. Alfred snickered quietly and only waved at Bruce as he closed the door behind him, his eyes twinkling.

* * *

**Epilogue**

After several hours of intense physical activity which included long and protracted calling out of names, pet names and petitions to several deities, Diana finally rolled off of Bruce, naked, sweaty and thoroughly spent. And happy. So, so happy. "No more than eight-point-eight, I make that," she teased. "You're out of practice already, Bruce."

"Hrrggh."

"I think I've been away on off-world missions for too long, I've missed you too much. 9 days! It's too long to be apart from you, darling! I'll ask J'onn if he can put me in for League missions closer to home, or maybe he can schedule us on more missions together," she said, before completely changing topics. "We should visit Mother one of these days!"

"Mmmngrh."

"Yes, I suppose we could take a breather for a while. Two minutes, darling, and then back to work."

There was no sound from her husband for a while, before Diana heard a garbled mumbling that may have been a whimper begging for mercy.


	5. Chapter 5: Babysitting

**Universe 3576: Wayne Manor**

"You're sure you have this?" asked Bruce, an eyebrow raised. Beside him, Diana was looking concerned as well.

Dick rolled his eyes as he let out a frustrated sigh at the screen in front of him. "Oh ye of little faith," he said as he made a placating gesture with his hands. "How many times do I have to tell you; I've got Jason, Tim and Damian with me – the four of us are enough to look after Alex. We got this, relax."

"Besides," he added as he fixed an accusing glare at the older man, "you seem to forget that I'm a father now too. I've had experience taking care of Carter by myself, you know."

"Would that experience include the time your son overturned a jar of honey on the floor and you slipped and fell on your ass?" Bruce shot back with a smirk.

Dick scowled. "I wish Barbara would stop telling that story to everybody."

His adoptive father snorted over the transmission, while Diana only grinned, shaking her head. "If you're trying to curry sympathy from us, it's not going to work. Also, thanks for reminding me to tell your wife to snap a picture of you if the same thing happens again."

Dick gave his best sour face. "Love you too, old man."

Bruce grinned before his face turned serious once more. "Alexandria's been crawling for a while now, and she's a very active baby, so watch out for that. Keep a close on eye on her – she's of a mood to pull down and break just about anything at the moment. I already baby-proofed the house, but keep her away from any sharp edges just to be safe."

"Bruce, I just said we got this…"

Bruce carried on, undaunted. "Alfred already prepared her meals for the day before he went out to pick up Queen Hippolyta from Themyscira. She's staying at the Manor for the weekend. They should reach the Manor by late afternoon."

"Fine. What about you two lovebirds?"

"We're meeting Clark and Lois for lunch at the Kents' and a movie after the League meeting," replied Diana. "Should be back in time for dinner."

"Which Alfred will prepare?" asked Dick hopefully.

"Yes, Dick, which Alfred will prepare. I know how bad you four are at cooking."

"Untrue. Steph says Tim's getting much better at it."

"That's because he's the only one among you all sensible enough to actually follow the recipes," said Bruce.

"You're gonna be late, Bruce."

The older man gave him the evil eye as Diana nodded in agreement. "He's right, darling, we really should finish this call." She turned back to the oldest of her adopted sons. "Bruce is right though; Alex can be a real handful, Dick. It may not seem that way at first, but she's given us a lot of near heart attacks."

"Don't worry, Di, we'll take good care of her. You can count on us," Dick reassured her.

Diana beamed at him before walking away from the camera, leaving him and Bruce. "Get going already, Bruce. Sheesh. Four of us to take care of one baby; how hard could it be?"

Bruce narrowed his eyes at Dick, before shaking his head with a resigned smirk. "You say that now. I'd wish that she gives you a nightmarish time, but it'd traumatize Tim, Stephanie and Damian for life. Besides, I'd like to see my house still standing when I get back."

Dick rolled his eyes again. "Exaggerate much?"

Bruce smirked. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he said before cutting the connection.

Dick grumbled all the way to the family room where a bored Jason was on the sofa flipping channels, his feet propped up on the coffee table. Their baby sister was sitting on his lap, chewing on her teddy bear's ear while she babbled at Jason. "Was that Dad and Diana?" asked Jason, his eyes still on the television screen.

"Yeah. Bruce thinks we can't handle babysitting Alex."

Jason snorted in disbelief. "We could show him how it's done. She's been sitting quietly for the past hour watching cartoons. I've been feeding her Alfred's double chocolate chip cookies to sweeten the deal. Easiest work I've ever done."

"I know, right? Taking care of Alex is a vacation compared to what I usually face at home. If this was me and Carter, I'd be tearing my hair out right about now. You know how he likes to climb up the couch and jump down nowadays?"

"Yeah."

"I swear he's trying to somersault off the couch. Scared the crap out of me. Babs and I have to watch him like a hawk all the time; it's exhausting."

"He's gonna learn how to pull off a somersault sooner or later," reasoned the younger man.

Dick glared at his brother. "He doesn't have to learn how to do it at two."

Jason smirked as he turned his attention back to the television screen. The sound of footsteps approaching caused the two to glance up. Tim was the first to make his entrance, the expression on his face a mixture of weariness and caution. Damian popped his head out a few seconds later, looking around the room warily with narrowed eyes.

"Where is she?" asked both at the same time.

"Who? Alex? She's here. Somewhere," said Jason dismissively as he made a shooing motion at his younger brothers, his eyes still fixed on the screen. This was a damn good episode of the Legend of Korra rerun.

"She's not here, Todd," pointed out Damian, not bothering to hide the accusatory tone in his voice.

"Well, the kid's around somewhere. Now shut up, this part's getting good."

Dick managed to catch the slight look of panic that flashed across his youngest brother's face. Strange. Damian was still prickly around his family every once in a while, but he reserved a soft spot for his younger sister, letting his walls down around her. "Is something wrong, Damian?"

Tim sighed. "You guys don't live here, so you don't have to put up with him complaining to you non-stop that our baby sister's out for his blood."

"Tt. She is, Drake. She's got Father's brains, so naturally she's a genius. I'd bet anything she's crawling around for an innocent-looking weapon to kill me with. But I will beat her."

Dick stared incredulously at Damian for a good minute before turning to Tim for an explanation. Tim rolled his eyes and took a seat on one of the armchairs. "Her powers are starting to kick in. She's quite an early bloomer, all things considered. So far, it's super-strength. Not developed enough to seriously injure, but nothing to sneeze at either."

"Drake, you are absolute crap at explaining the true magnitude of the situation," Damian said in a huff as he turned away from them, sulking with his arms crossed.

Tim carried on. "About a month ago, we were all in the kitchen having breakfast. Damian was helping to feed her, and he was making faces at her to make her laugh…you know, normal silly stuff. His performance must have been a masterpiece though, because she laughed, picked up her plastic spoon and in her happiness flung a wad of pureed apple up his nose. Somehow it ended up down the wrong hole; plus it was strong enough to knock him on his ass too. So our baby bird here ended up choking and wheezing for a good couple of minutes while Bruce did the Heimlich on him."

"Drake here did nothing to help. He was laughing his ass off."

Tim grinned widely. "Yes, I was. Steph too. Even Diana, come to think of it."

So were Dick and Jason. They clutched at their stomachs, howling in laughter, pausing to wipe the odd tear away as Damian scowled unhappily at them. "Ever since then," Tim continued, "Alex seems to have gotten into the habit of chucking stuff at him every time she sees him. She thinks it's good fun. He thinks she's trying to see which projectile looks the most harmless but is most likely to kill him."

"Well, that explains Baby Bird's outfit over here," chuckled Dick as he glanced at his little brother. Over his sweater and jeans, Damian was wearing hockey shoulder and elbow pads, awkwardly stuffed under a flak jacket. He wore biking gloves and a football helmet clearly too big for him. His legs were protected by knee pads and soccer shin guards, and he wore his Robin boots. A jockstrap, worn over his jeans, completed the ensemble.

Jason was still doubled over in breathless laughter as he took in Damian's appearance, to the irritation of the boy. "Can we get back to the matter at hand?" asked Damian. He looked from side to side for his missing sister. "I'd like to avoid my impending murder."

The rest rolled their eyes. Bruce might say otherwise, but anybody who dressed up as a bat to strike fear into the hearts of criminals tended to have a penchant for drama and exaggeration, and his son was no different. Dick felt like he was arguing with Bruce all over again. "Relax, Damian. She's not gonna kill-"

A tennis ball came whistling out of nowhere, hitting Dick smack centre on his forehead. As he yelped and swore in pain, Damian let out a squeak of terror and tried to hide behind the much bigger Jason. Jason turned his head and stared at Damian. "Are you kidding me right now?"

"She's out to kill me, Todd!" hissed the boy in reply. Jason shook his head and turned his attention to Tim. His brother had not reacted as dramatically as Damian, but Tim was still tense, his body coiled like a tight spring. "Wait, you too? Seriously?" asked Jason again, not bothering to hide the note of disbelief in his voice.

"Like I said, you don't live here, so you wouldn't know. You really can't let her out of your sight," said Tim, peering around for any sign of their sister.

"Yeah, but you're not in mortal danger – you're like her favourite big brother."

"You know how she shows that, Jay? By breaking all my stuff. Last I checked, the count of equipment – my equipment – that she's destroyed stands at five laptops, two pairs of headphones, a keyboard, two mice, and three portable hard drives."

"Your stuff isn't in this room."

"You know what is though? Wayne family heirlooms. What happens when they get broken? Alfred gets pissed, that's what happens. You remember the last time Alfred got mad at us?"

Both Dick and Jason stopped to consider their younger brother's words for a few seconds. Okay, fair point. Alfred mad was the last thing any of them wanted. Dick and Jason both remembered an incident years ago, back when Jason was still Robin, when some harmless roughhousing had led to them breaking the amateur pottery items that Thomas Wayne had made for his wife decades ago. Alfred's wrath had been terrifying. And the punishment had been most severe.

Jason shuddered. "A whole Sunday cleaning the entire house."

"Top to toe, and then the garage, garden, Batcave…" added Dick.

"And patrol in Crime Alley the whole night after that."

"He let Bruce come in after midnight, right?"

"Nope. He _insisted_ Bruce come in after midnight; said Bruce could use the added sleep. He told us we could only come back after 4am."

Dick groaned tiredly as he ran a hand over his face. "And it was a Sunday too. So school and work the next day."

He was quiet for a while before speaking again. "Ok, let's at least agree that Alex shouldn't be left unsupervised. We'll worry about the 'killing' part later. Let's go look for her."

* * *

**Universe 3576: Wayne Manor**

"Found her!" called Jason from the kitchen. The other three rushed into the room to where Jason was standing against the wall, hidden from Alexandria. The four watched quietly while Alex crawled to the row of chairs placed beside the kitchen island. She moved towards the nearest one and frowned at it. Slowly, she stood up on wobbly feet, grabbing the chair leg for support.

When she managed to stand up, her doting brothers could not help but pop out and cheer for her. Alex in turn squealed happily and started to move towards them, shifting her grip from one chair leg to the next.

When she had cleared the last chair in the row and her brothers were just a few metres away, she stopped, her face twisted into an adorable scowl. How was she going to go over to them?

"She looks just like Diana right now," whispered Tim to Dick. "See how she's got that determined look in her eye? Lips pursed, like we're a challenge that needs to have its ass handed to it?"

"Nah," Dick countered. "That's a Bruce-patented scowl, if I ever saw one. The last time I saw a face that intense, it was when Bruce caught that serial bank robber."

"The one who vomited on, crapped and pissed his pants simultaneously when Bruce trained the Bat-glare on him?"

"Shut up, guys!" hissed Jason. "She's doing it! She's gonna walk over!"

Alexandria took one step towards them. Then another. And another. And yet another.

"She's doing it! She's walking on her own!" Tim said happily. Dick was fumbling around in his pocket for his phone.

"We got to see Alex take her first steps! I gotta take a video of this; I'm never gonna let Bruce live this down!"

The four were so focused on cheering on their baby sister, they did not notice what else she was doing until a few seconds later. Damian frowned suddenly. "Wait. Her feet aren't touching the floor. Why aren't they touching the floor?"

"What're you talking about?" asked Dick incredulously. "Look closer, she's walking properly! Her feet are on…the…ground…" His voice trailed off as he looked to see Alexandria wobbling steadily towards them. Half a metre above the floor.

"Oh damn."

* * *

**Universe 3576: Smallville**

"Bruce, are you alright?" asked a concerned Diana as she looked at him, her hand paused over the Kents' door. Her husband looked stressed, and that tell-tale twitch in his eye was starting to show. She was also starting to notice the vein throbbing in his forehead.

He gave her a smile and a quick kiss to reassure her. "I'm fine, Diana. Just worried about Alex, that's all. I hope Dick didn't underestimate just what a handful she can be."

Diana smiled wryly. "You too?"

As Bruce shot her a questioning look, she carried on. "I can't shake the feeling that our daughter is up to some mischief. It's taking everything I have not to just drop everything and head back home. I'm actually more worried for the boys than Alex."

Bruce snorted. "Don't be. Dick and Jason have been getting too cocky lately. An afternoon with Alex should bring them back down a couple of pegs."

"I thought you were concerned about them?"

"As long as Alex doesn't bring the house down around them, then not really…"

* * *

**Universe 3576: Wayne Manor**

Panicked shouts and pleading voices fought in the chaos of the kitchen, along with the clatter of cutlery and pots and pans falling on the floor. Then, for a moment, quiet reigned.

Only to be broken a short while later by the squeal of a baby girl as she crawled in mid-air out of the kitchen towards the family room, just of out of reach of her brothers who frantically tried to bring her back down to earth to no avail.

Alex stopped in the middle of the room, still hovering a few metres above the ground. Her four brothers were doubled over, panting, with Tim and Damian both giving their older brothers the evil eye. "Now do you believe us when we say you can't let Alex out of your sight?"

Dick and Jason glared back in return. Something wet dripped onto Jason's shoulder, and he looked up to see another trickle of drool drop down from his sister's mouth, this time on his head. He glared up at his sister, who was looking pretty pleased with herself. "This is my favourite jacket, kid!"

Alex's only reply was to blow a raspberry at her big brother, before looking up curiously. A movement caught her eye, and she babbled happily as she crawled upwards towards it. Dick and the others looked up, and their eyes widened with fresh terror as they realised what she was crawling towards.

* * *

**Universe 3576: Somewhere above the Pacific Ocean**

The serene calm seas were temporarily broken as a Javelin screamed over the water, its sleek profile cutting easily through the air. Inside the jet, Her Majesty Queen Hippolyta of Themyscira was in her seat looking out at the ocean below them, sipping from the cup of tea that Alfred had prepared for her before they took off.

Said butler was piloting the jet at the moment, his eyes alert despite his relaxed posture. "We're making good time, your Majesty," he said. "We should reach Gotham within the hour; enough time for me to prepare dinner for the family before Master Bruce and Miss Diana reach home."

"Thank you, Alfred," she said, smiling at him. "How is the family doing?"

"Miss Diana has been looking forward to your visit for quite some time. Master Bruce will be glad to see you too, although we both know that boy will not show it," replied Alfred, rolling his eyes. "However, I can safely add that your grandchildren are very much excited to see you."

Hippolyta chuckled fondly at that last sentence of his. _Her grandchildren_. The word was not unheard of in her vocabulary, but she would be the first to admit that three years ago, the word itself was alien to her. For an immortal Amazon like her, having Diana was in itself a small miracle, and she could never imagine herself or any of her fellow Amazonians having grandchildren for that matter.

And yet here she was, wishing at that very moment that Alfred would fly faster so she could be with her grandchildren, blood-related or not. She would never have thought it possible before, but now she could truthfully say that she loved each and every one of them. The cheerful and reliable Richard. The hot-headed and passionate Jason. The sweet and determined Timothy. The quiet and kind Cassandra. The moody yet noble Damian. And the stubborn and happy Alexandria.

Alfred must have caught the reflection of her wistful face as he chuckled quietly. "Don't worry, your Majesty. We'll be reaching Gotham soon," he reassured her.

Her face reddened at being caught, but Hippolyta nodded in thanks as she resumed her gazing out the window. Her eyebrows rose in confusion at Alfred's next words. "However," he mentioned, "it wouldn't hurt to check in on the boys."

He keyed in a few commands on his console as Hippolyta got out of her chair to settle into the seat beside him. "You're not calling them?"

"No," he said distractedly as he typed in a few commands. "When those four are together, there's bound to be some sort of mischief. Calling them only gives them time enough for them to cover up their messes for me to find and clean. That is precisely why Master Bruce and I took the liberty of installing a few hidden microphones in the Manor."

He noticed her frown and added, to allay her concerns, "The microphones are not placed in their bedrooms or the bathrooms which deserve privacy, mainly in the common areas where the family gathers such as the kitchen, the family and living rooms, and the Batcave."

He continued typing before there was a beeping. "Ah, there we go…"

The Javelin was quiet before utter chaos blasted out of its speakers.

"Ceiling fan! CEILING FAN! She's getting way too damn close to the CEILING FAN!"

*crash* "Aw no, Alex, that was my mother's favourite vase! I made that for her!"

"…oh come on! Why the hell is she upside down now Dick? Why the hell is she upside down in mid-air now?"

"Damian! Seriously, I thought Bruce and I told you to keep your swords in the Cave armoury and not in the family room!"

"Argh! Alex, stop throwing stuff at me!"

"Tim, Jason, get your throwing lines out, we're gonna lasso her to the ground! It's the only way to get her to stop floating around! Damian, just stand there and let her keep chucking stuff at you! You'll be the bait!"

"What?! Are you insane, Grayson?"

"You're kidding me! What do we look like, Ghostbusters?"

"…does that mean Alex is Slimer, Jay?"

"…well, all her drool seems to end up on my head."

"This is all your fault, Todd! Why did you feed her Alfred's cookies non-stop?"

"MY FAULT?"

Alfred switched off the connection before leaning back in his seat shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. It was a while before he looked up at the amused Hippolyta.

"I don't suppose you want to turn back to Themyscira, your Majesty? Perhaps for the weekend?" he asked. There was no mistaking the hopeful tone in his voice. She patted his shoulder in sympathy, but smiled and shook her head. "I'm afraid not, Alfred."

The caretaker of Wayne Manor let out a tired sigh as he sat up and placed his hands back on the Javelin's controls. "I suppose not. Best buckle in, my Queen."

* * *

**Smallville: Jonathan &amp; Martha Kent's home**

Jonathan and Martha shared another confused look as they glanced at their guests. All four were doing their best to concentrate on the delicious spread of food in front of them, with little success. Bruce was making the most progress out of the four; he was at least able to shovel food into his mouth robotically, but there was no mistaking the twitch in his eye and the vein in his forehead that threatened to burst at any time.

Diana and Lois were just as twitchy as him, and they both seemed to be fighting the need to bolt into the living room. Every so often, one or both of the women would cast longing glances at their mobile phones on the coffee table in the living room, resisting the urge to make a call.

Clark was the worst of them all, displaying all of their combined mannerisms. The last time he had been this fidgety was when he was planning to ask Lois to marry him. The twitch in his eye rivalled that of Bruce. He turned his head to glance at his silent phone so often his parents were surprised he had not given himself whiplash. To top it all off, his knees were nervously tapping the underside of the table so fast it resembled a drum solo.

"Do you four need to call home; check in on your children?" asked Martha kindly.

All four perked up briefly at her offer, but a decision was made after a brief shared look. "It's ok Ma," answered Lois on behalf of the others, "I'm sure the kids will be fine."

"Alex has her brothers babysitting her," added Diana. Her words were meant to reassure their hosts, but both Jonathan and Martha suspected it was the other way round instead.

"And it's not as if it's Conner and Kara's first time looking after Jonathan, either," said Clark, giving his mother what he hoped was a winning smile.

"They'll be fine," finished Bruce, smiling tightly.

"I bet Conner and Kara are almost done tucking in Jonathan for his nap now!" exclaimed Clark as he resumed eating with false gusto. "I think."

* * *

**Universe 3576: Metropolis**

"Ah crap. Kara, he's hovering outside the balcony! Jonny, don't make me fly out there! You get back in here now! …OW! You hit me with heat vision! That's it you little punk, no more nice big bro Superboy. Kara! I need some help here!"

* * *

**Universe 3576: Gotham Manor**

Damian yelled in determination as he took a running start, vaulting off the nearest armchair and leaping with outstretched arms towards his floating sister. Success! He wriggled back and forth, Alex in his arms, in an effort to bring her back down to earth.

Alex wasn't having any of it however, and promptly hit him in the eye. "OW!"

Damian fell right on top his brothers, and the other three groaned as they tried to push Damian off them. Tim's eyes widened as he saw where she was headed next. "Oh man. She's heading outside!"

There was a clatter of furniture as all four scrambled to their feet chasing after her again. She led them on a wild chase up and down the house, from the living room to the bedrooms to the kitchen to the library and back again. They finally cornered her at the main entrance door itself. Alex assessed her opponents.

Her brothers were panting heavily, but there was no mistaking the gleam of determination in their eyes. They intended to catch her and put her in time-out and tuck her into bed for her nap. No, that wasn't going to happen. She wanted to see what was outside, she wanted to fly free!

The tell-tale click of the door unlocking caught their attention. The moment it opened, Alex flew straight out…and into the arms of her grandmother. "Now, now Alexandria," Queen Hippolyta admonished gently. "Don't make any more trouble for your brothers."

The baby cooed and nestled deeper into her grandmother's embrace before letting out a huge yawn. Hippolyta smiled fondly at Alexandria, and turned to examine her grandsons with a raised eyebrow. All four were slumped on the floor or against the wall, breathing heavily. The relief on their faces was palpable. Dick was rummaging in his pocket for his phone. "What're you doing man?" asked Jason.

"Gotta call Babs," Dick muttered as he keyed in his wife's number. "Gotta tell her what an angel our kid is compared to Alex."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for waiting, and thanks for all the reviews so far! **


	6. Chapter 6: Boy-proofing

**A/N: I'm back! This story isn't dead by any means, but I will only update when story ideas pop up in my head, and for the last few months, I had nothing whatsoever. Coupled with work, that meant a long time before a new chapter was up. **

**This chapter is in reply to a review for a previous chapter. To BMWWlover, I don't have plans for a date chapter with Alex, but I hope this checks the boxes on Bruce's protective side. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Universe 3576: Gotham City (Grayson household), two weeks ago**

The atmosphere was light in the Grayson household. Conversation flowed easily amongst the party's attendees as the birthday boy (three years old, if anybody asked) cavorted around the room, basking in all the attention given to him. Carter Grayson was currently playing with the model Hot Wheels that Uncle Jason had given him, along with the toy robot that Uncle Tim had built him and the stuffed puppy that Uncle Damian had bought for him. Barbara kept an eye on her son as she leaned against Dick, chatting with her father and Diana. Her husband sported an easy grin as he wrapped an arm around Barbara, pulling her closer to him.

Jason, Tim and Damian were having a friendly argument over their drinks, trying to one-up each other with tales of their latest cases. Stephanie and Cass were on the way, the two returning from shopping earlier that day. Alfred was in the kitchen, putting the last touches on a platter of sandwiches as he offered advice to Bruce, who was currently trying to put a fussing Alexandria to sleep.

Giving up, Bruce walked out of the kitchen to join Diana and the rest, trying to catch his wife's eye. Alex's cries finally caught Diana's attention, and she excused herself temporarily to take care of her daughter. Commissioner Gordon was in a retrospective mood as he leaned back on his seat, looking at the baby being soothed.

"I'm sure you've probably heard it all by now, Bruce," he said to the younger man who took a seat beside him, "but that girl of yours is going to grow up to be a looker."

Bruce's grimace was all the answer he needed. Jim grinned and took a sip of his coffee. "You want me to put a security detail on her when she grows up? Make she doesn't have any unnecessary stalkers following her around?"

"He's actually thought about it, believe it or not," Dick cut in. Bruce glared at him in return, but Dick looked unrepentant as he smirked and carried on. "He's been going through his Batman Inc. contacts recently, looking around for good but discreet bodyguards."

The commissioner raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't you all do a better job at it?" he asked; while the extended family did not discuss it openly, Jim had known that the Waynes were also the Batclan even before Dick and Barbara had married. He was a good detective after all, but was trustworthy enough not to disclose the information, something which the family appreciated greatly.

Bruce shrugged in defeat. "In the day, maybe, and while she's still growing up. But we operate at night, and once she starts school, it'll be harder for us to keep an eye on her." He was quiet for a while before continuing. "I'm seriously considering home-schooling her."

He turned to look at Jim. "Are there cases of girls and young women being stalked and kidnapped?"

Jim grunted as he took a sip of his coffee. "Not as much nowadays. You and the rest of the Bats do a damn good job at deterring these scumbags. To be honest, I don't think you have to worry much about your kid when she's outside. The question is what happens when she sneaks a boy home," he commented, casting a disgruntled eye at his daughter and son-in-law as he finished his sentence. Dick and Barbara had the courtesy to look guilty; Jim evidently still remembered that time when they were teenagers and Barbara snuck Dick home to make out, wrongly thinking that the commissioner would not be back home early.

Diana chuckled as she handed over her dozing daughter to Alfred before taking a seat beside her husband, the idea that a teenage Alexandria would sneak a boy home ridiculous to her. "Somehow I doubt she'll sneak a boy home. I didn't do that after all. In fact, when he asked for my hand in marriage, I did the exact opposite, and brought Bruce home to Themyscira to meet my mother for dinner. A civilised and formal meeting for her to get to know him properly and for him to state his intentions honourably."

"You missed the part about me having to defeat your mother's Honour Guard first before she invited me in, Princess," muttered Bruce, earning him an elbow in the gut.

"Well how else would she know that you were serious about me?"

Bruce only rolled his eyes as he leaned back against the sofa, gingerly rubbing at the spot where Diana had socked him. He glanced at Alfred as the butler, accompanied by Dick, brought the sleeping baby upstairs to Dick and Barbara's room where the couple had earlier set up a cot for Alexandria.

When the two men returned, the adults resumed their conversation. "Are you sure she's going to be alright alone up there, Dick?" asked Bruce.

Dick raised an eyebrow. "Wow you're really into this whole over-protective dad thing aren't you, Bruce? Relax, she's fine. I'm kinda jealous; I don't recall you being this protective of me and Jason when we were kids."

"Wait until she hits puberty," muttered Barbara. "You haven't seen anything yet."

Jim grunted. "Trust me, Bruce. If I knew Barbara was dating the Boy Wonder, I would've done more than just install paintbombs on her bedroom door."

"You rigged her bedroom?" asked Bruce interestedly. Alfred was also hovering near both men, a notepad and pen in his hand.

Jim smiled as he accepted the fresh drink Bruce poured him. "I had all sorts of ideas to boy-proof the house; called them my anti-boy defenses. Let me tell you about this one I had…"

* * *

**Universe 3576: Gotham City (Wayne Manor)**

Diana's heightened senses could detect the smell of burning metal from a mile away as she headed back from Star City where she had been visiting Ollie and Dinah. Worried, she put on a burst of speed as she flew straight for the Manor.

Thankfully, her family was not under attack. On the other hand, it didn't look as if Bruce and Alfred could salvage that poor crash dummy though, the thing half-burnt to cinders after they had used it to trigger the Manor's taser lawn system. She landed beside Bruce, who was muttering to himself as he took down notes about whatever crazy experiment the two men had just carried out.

"Intruder managed to get within 34 metres of the house before the heat-tracking sensors detected it…7-second delay before the taser lawn kicked in…going to have to rewire the circuitry; should probably consider other deterrents…what would work best? Knockout gas? Taser darts? Hmm…"

Diana was shaking her head as she nudged her husband. "Darling, aren't you taking this a little too seriously? The taser lawns are for enemies who try to break into the manor."

Bruce grunted as he continued taking down notes, Alfred busying himself with cleaning up the mess made. "Exactly, Princess. If some mohawked, tattooed, biker punk in a leather jacket and too tight jeans tries to sneak my daughter out for a midnight date, then he's definitely an enemy. And that's where this lawn comes in. All for him. Isn't that right, Alfred?"

"Naturally, Master Bruce," Alfred sniffed as he cast a disdainful look at the fallen dummy, no doubt comparing it to one of Alex's future dates. "I have strived long and hard to keep you and your family protected. Some idiot boy who thinks he can date our precious Alexandria will not stop me. Although…this much voltage might not be cheap to maintain in the long run, Master Bruce. Might I suggest installing hidden solar panels instead to defray the costs?"

"That's damn good thinking, Alfred. Add it in; we'll work out the concealment of the panels later."

"Of course, Master Bruce."

"Alfred! Don't encourage him!"

* * *

**Universe 3576: Gotham City (Wayne Manor)**

"AAAUUGGHH!"

Diana had been climbing up the stairs from the Batcave, where she had been helping Oracle research one of her cases, when she heard it. Damian's panicked yell and the resounding crash that followed it had Diana running straight to the family room. "Damian! Are you alright? Are we under attack?" she burst out as she ran inside only to stop in her tracks as she stared slack-jawed at the sight before her.

Bruce, Tim and Stephanie were dressed like lab scientists, each in flowing white lab coats and sporting a pair of bookish spectacles that only served to emphasize the image. Bruce of course managed to make his outfit look devilishly handsome as usual, and Diana had to admit to herself that it made her want to carry her husband up to their bedroom and give him a proper…examination - NO NO NO NO! Get back to the matter at hand! Damn Bruce and his stethoscope!

Damian was on the floor, groaning in painful irritation as he got up from the floor, a short distance away from the couch. The couch which had one seat now resting on an extended hydraulic spring. The rest of the furniture in the room was covered in white drapes, and there was a faint imprint on the ceiling where someone – Damian presumably – had made painful contact with it.

"Test run 14, successful," Stephanie noted as she scribbled away at a notepad. Tim nodded as he typed away at the PC console in front of him. "Overhead chandelier's still in one piece. Looks like Damian didn't hit anything on his way up to the ceiling this time round," he said absent-mindedly.

"Or when he was going down," added Steph.

"Isn't that a relief," muttered Damian as he limped over to them. He stretched painfully, and meditated quietly for a brief time before his body's healing abilities kicked in. When he opened his eyes, the bruises were gone. The benefits of dying and being resurrected by Apokoliptian energies. "Are we doing this again? More importantly, do we have to?"

Bruce eyed him sternly. "We had a deal, Damian."

Damian glared back, before sighing in resignation. "I must be out of my mind."

"No, you're just smitten by a certain Kryptonian," said Steph smugly as Tim snickered away beside her. "Face it, Baby Bird, you're in lurrrvvveee," she added, drawing out the last word.

The boy scowled. "Only Grayson gets to call me that."

Steph's face wore an expression of mock-shock. "Oh no! Looks like she's got competition from Dick then!"

Diana frowned in confusion. "Who's 'she'? What exactly is going on here?"

"We're installing ejector seats in the couches, Mom. This one's the first that we installed; we're just running some tests on it," said Tim as he and Steph gave his adopted mother a reassuring smile.

Bruce breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the frown on Diana's face disappeared. He'd made the right call in asking Tim to be here. While Tim's technical expertise was always useful, he wanted the young man here because Tim had always been Diana's favourite out of their adoptive children, going back to the time when he had been the only one aside from her who had believed that Bruce was still alive in the aftermath of Batman's confrontation with Darkseid a few years back.

Diana had of course asked Tim not to call her 'Mom' when she and Bruce married – she did not want him to forget his birth parents – but the young man had cheerfully ignored her, saying that while his birth parents would always have a special place in his heart, he loved her and Bruce like his own parents as well. Diana's reaction had been to hug the breath out of him, a happy tear trickling down her cheek as Tim went red in the face.

While Jason, Cass and Damian occasionally also called Diana 'Mom' – the young boy on very rare occasions – Tim had been the first one to do so. Diana also got on famously with Steph; the younger woman's cheerful enthusiasm was infectious and both loved spending time together. Therefore, Bruce had been banking on the young couple to keep her distracted from whatever he was cooking up. His relief turned to panic as Diana frowned again, this time aiming the full force of her glare straight at her husband.

"Bruce, maybe you'd like to explain why you three are installing ejector seats on our couches? And why you have Damian testing them?"

"I'm invulnerable, apparently," scowled Damian at his father.

"To be fair, you _are _invulnerable," pointed out Tim and Steph together.

Diana turned to her youngest son. "Damian, why did you agree to this in the first place?"

Damian's face reddened immediately. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he mumbled at the floor.

Thank Hera for enhanced hearing. "…whose number?"

"Father said he'd ask Superman for Kara's number," Damian mumbled again as Tim and Steph chortled together, clearly enjoying the moment. Diana didn't think the boy could get any redder. Bruce was covering his mouth with his free hand, trying to cover the smile that was threatening to break out on his face. Diana smiled indulgently. Damian always tried his best to brush off his gigantic crush on Kara Zor-El, but everyone knew about it except the two of them. Personally, Diana thought it was sweet, especially recently when Damian made an effort to be civil and friendly around the older girl; a stark contrast to the old days when they couldn't seem to stop sniping at each other.

But…as sweet as the whole thing was, it didn't explain why Tim, Steph and Damian were doing this in the first place. Diana didn't need years of being with the World's Greatest Detective to know that he was using his protégés to hide his true intentions.

"Bruce?"

Bruce gave his wife one of his best charming smiles. "Yes, my dear Princess?"

The smile withered in the face of one of her own famous glares. "Explain, please."

Bruce sighed. The game was up. He took a deep breath, his tone shifting to the business-like tone he adopted during investigations.

"Sooner or later, she's going to be dating, which unfortunately I can't stop. That means sooner or later, she's going to end up with a boy I disapprove, and sooner or later she's going to invite him to our house for dinner for the first time. Sooner or later, that boy will be more comfortable in our house, and sooner or later, like it or not, they're gonna end up on a couch like this, all alone. Sooner or later, he's going to try and make a move on her, like put an arm around her or kiss her."

"Or worse, make out," pointed out Steph helpfully.

"Sooner or later I'm going to have a headache," countered Diana. "Is this going anywhere?"

"Glad you asked, Princess. So if the boy tries to put the moves on her, my ejector seat couch will put the moves on him and throw him up onto the ceiling and then on the floor, both of which will drive home the point to him that NO ONE MAKES A MOVE ON MY DAUGHTER."

It's really simple, Diana," Bruce said as Tim and Steph nodded in agreement beside him.

Diana just shook her head.

* * *

**Universe 3576: Gotham City (Wayne Manor)**

"…and that covers the tour of the defenses of the Manor, your Majesty," Alfred said as he led Queen Hippolyta back to the rear of the Manor's grounds where Bruce and Diana had set up a few picnic chairs and table. The Queen of Themyscira was visiting her daughter, as well as deliver a belated birthday present for her granddaughter.

"Thank you, Master Alfred. I'm most reassured that Alexandria will be well-protected."

Diana looked up from the book that she was reading. "Was Alfred showing you the Manor's defenses? Bruce and Alfred went through them with a fine-toothed comb, we're prepared for any sort of emergency."

"Oh yes, of course. I'm especially impressed by their anti-boy defenses," Hippolyta said approvingly.

Diana froze. Put down her book slowly. Turned her head towards her husband beside her. And glared. Not this again.

Bruce knew his wife could be damn intimidating, but he wasn't someone who was easily intimidated. He met her glare with his own, never backing down.

Hippolyta smiled at the exchange. Two equals challenging each other, yet supportive of the other, and always in love. Diana had picked the best person as her partner in life, there was no doubt of this. This was still entertaining though; she didn't see any harm in stirring things up a bit. "Very impressive indeed, especially the full range of defences that will be activated on this…'prom night'.

Diana's glare was ratcheted up to impressive levels, matched by Bruce's own. Diana, always the impatient one, went first.

"You know she's going to want to go to prom when she's old enough."

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

"Our daughter will likely be punching out crooks even before she dances with a boy!"

"If I'm lucky, she'll punch out the kid before he asks her out to dance. Anyway, that would make her a strong woman then, just like her mother and grandmother before her. A true Amazon. "

"I could not agree more, Bruce," said Hippolyta, nodding sagely.

"Mother!"

Diana glared at Bruce, who scowled back at her. Oh everyone knew Bruce couldn't win any argument against his wife – he loved her too much – but this was one battle he did not want to lose. Her hands on her hips, in that pose that Bruce had always, _always_, found sexy as hell, Diana fired the next salvo.

"She's going, Bruce, whether you like it or not. When it is time, I will personally bring her shopping at the most expensive shop in town for the perfect dress, I will personally do up her hair and make-up, and I will personally take the photo of her and the nice boy she's going with. If you say no, you will literally sleep in the Batcave during the month of that prom. Under the spot where the bats roost."

"…not the spot where the droppings fall…?"

"Directly under the spot where the bat droppings fall."

"But Diana -"

She cracked her knuckles one by one, slowly, in a manner reminiscent of Jason. He usually sported that look when he and Bruce were playing Bad Cop, Worse Cop with the crooks that they were interrogating.

Bruce blanched and nodded reluctantly. "Fine."

"Don't sulk, you're a grown man. I can't believe you, anyway! One of the happiest days of our daughter's life, and you want to ruin it for her?"

"I'm not saying I want to…" grumbled a chastised Bruce.

"What would you be doing anyway? Making sure she follows her curfew, waiting up for her, sitting outside the porch on a rocking chair, with a shotgun on your lap?"

Bruce looked aghast. "What? Of course not! I hate guns, you know that!"

"I'd be carrying batarangs. Your mother would have a spear," he continued matter-of-factly, as Hippolyta smiled smugly, nodding in agreement. "The really pointy ones of course."

"I would use the one I slayed a hydra with, many moons ago. It was forged by my own mother, in the embers of a dying volcano."

"Ooh, good choice."

"Oh, well then I don't have anything to worry about," said Diana as she threw her hands up in the air in frustration. "So no one will be sitting at the porch with a shotgun, then? Not even Jason?"

"That would be my job, Miss Diana," Alfred said as he appeared out of nowhere, the bulletproof tactical vest looking out of place on his normal butler's uniform. Rows of shotgun cartridges lay wrapped across the vest. He cocked the impressive rifle in his hands once, the sound echoing across the expansive Manor grounds and the quiet evening.

"Everything all right, Alfred?" asked Bruce conversationally.

"Your grandfather's old gun is quite rusty, Master Bruce," replied Alfred in an equally casual tone. "Nothing a little cleaning and polishing can't fix, of course, but I daresay it will take some time."

"Say, fifteen years maybe?"

Alfred smirked. "That seems about right. It'll be ready to intimidate on Miss Alexandria's prom date, I assure you. I look forward to it, in fact."

Diana groaned and shook her head in disbelief, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. "I give up," she said as she got up and walked away, leaving Bruce, Hippolyta and Alfred chuckling evilly among themselves.


	7. Chapter 7: Fathers & Sons

**A/N: Finally, a new chapter! This was planned originally as a Bat Bros one-shot that examined (in my continuity at least) their obsession with certain/gadgets and tools during their Robin days, for the four of them from Dick all the way to Damian. It took months of writer's block and the forcing out of plot from my brain for this story to evolve to what it is now - a Bruce-Dick father-son story...which didn't turn out too badly. Not to say that Tim and Damian won't have a similar story, because they definitely will!**

**In the meantime, enjoy!**

* * *

**Universe 3576: Wayne Manor, the Batcave**

Dick Grayson was in heaven. He leaned back as he sat on the floor, his legs crossed, his eyes still fixed on the gigantic display racks in front of him. His eyes glowed in wonder as he gazed upon the various gadgets on display. So fixated was he on the display before him that he did not notice his adoptive father walk down the long winding staircase down into the Batcave, followed shortly after by Alfred.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at Dick who was still staring intently at the various grapple guns, smoke pellets, batarangs and other equipment that he normally used. "Still having a hard time deciding what to bring on your first mission with me next week?"

"Kinda, yeah."

"You've had the better part of a month to decide ever since we agreed you'd go on missions with me on your 10th birthday. That's next week…" Bruce commented as he accepted a cup of tea from Alfred. "Better decide, chum. If you can't decide I'll have to leave you behind…" he teased.

Dick snorted. "I'll decide on my gadgets to bring in the field when you decide whether or not you want to call Wonder Woman for a proper date. Meeting up over coffee – lame."

Bruce choked on his tea. Alfred tried his best – and failed – to hide a smirk as he poured a cup of tea for Dick and placed it on a counter, within the boy's reach. "Diana – I mean, Wonder Woman – is a trusted friend and colleague. Coffee is not a date."

"Uh-huh."

"We're only meeting to plan training exercises for the Justice League; build up our teamwork. It is a new team, after all."

"Uh-huh."

Bruce frowned, his face creased in slight annoyance. "In any case, Diana is a respected colleague."

"Uh-huh."

Bruce didn't see why he felt like he needed to justify himself to his son, but he did so anyway. "I don't have time to pursue a relationship. My work is too important to allow any distractions. Diana's a remarkable woman; she's a valued friend, she's -"

He suddenly stopped and turned his head, looking around briefly, before looking at Alfred. "She wasn't standing behind me, was she? I had this strange feeling she was."

Alfred only chuckled as he shook his head, picking up the tray he had carried the teapot and cups on before working on.

Dick chose to keep quiet, only continuing to stare at the gadget display before him. Bruce didn't miss the ghost of a smirk on his face though. "Just pick your items for your first mission next week,' he said irritably as he turned and walked away. Dick just smiled as he watched his father walk away, before turning back to the gargantuan display rack before him.

He frowned. This was going to be a difficult choice to make. His eyes roved across the various weapons and gadgets until a glint from one of them caught his eye. A grapple gun, a customized one too, by the looks of it. Black, like all the others, but Dick caught the trails of green and red (his new costume's colours) running across it, just enough to differentiate it from the rest without being too flashy. A present from Bruce. Dick grinned to himself as he took it down from the display.

Yeah, this would do nicely.

Though he kinda wished it came in blue as well.

* * *

**Universe 3576: Gotham City (1 week later)**

"GODDAMN IT'S JUST ONE KID, YA MOOKS! JUST SHOOT HIM AND BE DONE WITH IT! OR DO YOU WANT ME TO KILL HIM AND THEN YOU TWITS?"

"Yessir, Mr Scarface, sir!" shouted the lead henchman as he wiped the sweat off his brow and rushed in frustration at his opponent. "Stop flitting around, you damn brat!" he yelled as he swung the metal pipe at the young boy in green, red and yellow currently fiddling around with his new grapple gun.

"Uh huh," mumbled the boy distractedly, his eyes still on his new toy. Just a second before the pipe hit him, Robin ducked under the swing, still concentrating on his gadget, causing the crook to stumble and crash face first into a pile of crates. The commotion drew the boy's attention, but only for a while.

"Oh, did I do that? My bad, mister." He returned back to his fiddling. "Why isn't this trigger working?"

Another two henchmen were next, both brandishing wooden bats as they ran at him. Batman was still dealing with the remaining three crooks hired by Scarface. He growled into the built-in commlink in his cowl. "Robin. Deal with those idiots first before you work out how the new toy works."

The boy looked up. "Wha-? Oh right, right…" he mumbled as he dug around in the pockets of his utility belt. "Where did I put the batarangs…?"

The henchman in front was nearing his position. "Found it, Batman! Found my batarang!" Robin yelled happily as he yanked out a batarang. Not noticing that he had accidentally also opened the pocket with the ball bearings, scattering them on the floor. "Aw dang."

He moved to the side and bent down, muttering to himself as he did so, picking up the ball bearings one by one. As the young hero did so, he was briefly aware of the henchman who had been running at him bearing down on him.

He stared, nonplussed, as the crook slipped and fell on his ass, the momentum of his charge making him crash into his fellow crook who had crashed into a crate earlier. "Huh," shrugged Robin. "I guess that works too."

The last henchman had stopped running at Robin now and was now cautiously circling him. He moved like he knew how to use that weapon of his. Robin spared a quick glance to where Batman was fighting his crooks. Bruce was still in combat with the three crooks, but he had moved to the shadows, delivering brutal attacks from the cover of darkness. Dick grinned. _Wouldn't hurt to do the same._

He took out the grapple gun, aiming it at the rafters above, and squeezed the trigger.

Nothing happened. He squeezed again. Still nothing.

"Aw maaaannnn…"

The crook was grinning as he stomped towards Robin. "Nice try kid," he growled.

Robin did not seemed to care as he continued fiddling with his grapple gun. "Why – won't – this – thing – work – oh hey! The safety switch! Found it! Now the trigger…"

For all his excitement at finally getting his new toy, Dick didn't actually know how it was supposed to work. He supposed he should have read the instruction manual beforehand (only Bruce would be anal enough to write a 100-page manual for a gadget that he himself customised), but he was too excited to be going out on his first patrol as Robin.

So it stood to reason that he was completely caught unaware as the grapple shot out upwards towards the roof, completely missing his target. The hook punctured through the underside of a wooden crate, hanging above by strong metal chains. "Oh c'mon…Batman! Didn't you test this thing when you made it?"

Bruce's voice piped in through Robin's intercom, a slight twinge of humour in his otherwise gruff voice. "I did. I can't help it if your aim's off."

Robin grumbled to himself as he did a quick examination of the gun. "Yeah, well…the retract button for the line isn't working!" he retorted.

"Yank the line out and take out your crook first then. I'll take a look at it again when we're back at the Cave."

The boy sighed loudly. "Fine…" he said as he pulled hard on the line connected to the grappling hook.

To Dick's surprise, the whole floorboard of the crate gave way, and whatever was inside tumbled out of the crate. Bags of frozen chickens, each weighing about a kilogram, fell out, bursting open the moment they hit the floor. One lone chicken fortuitously also hit Robin's crook on the head, causing him to stumble around as he clutched his head in pain.

Robin only stared, slack-jawed, as the crook staggered around, walking around in looping circles with his throbbing head in his hands, not noticing that his path was taking him to the ball bearings that Robin had thrown earlier. The crook slipped and fell hard onto the floor, knocking himself out

The sight seemed to piss off Scarface even more. "Dummy!" he yelled at the Ventriloquist. "Which dum-dum factory did you get these idiots from? There'll be hell to pay when we're back at the hideout! Now gimme the gun, looks like I gotta take care of this myself!"

He pointed his submachine gun at Robin and cocked the weapon, the menacing sound of the action echoing across the huge warehouse. "Gonna have to kill you, kid. What's your boss have to say about that?"

"This," uttered Batman as he swooped down from out of the rafters above and onto Scarface and the Ventriloquist.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the cops arrived. Robin had put out an anonymous tip to GCPD that Scarface and six of his goons had been caught smuggling weapons from a black market contact in the Gotham triads. The police came, Scarface and his goons were tied up, the guns all accounted for; whole thing was a slam dunk.

It was only 12 midnight, and ordinarily Bruce would have kept patrolling for about a couple more hours, but his adoptive son's elation on his successful debut as the Boy Wonder was infectious. So it came to pass that the Dynamic Duo ended up on a rooftop across Dick's favourite burger joint in Gotham, Bruce tinkering with the boy's new grapple gun while Dick kept up a running commentary, his mouth full of burger.

"No hang on Bruce, I don't remember that part being there…you sure it doesn't belong there? Yeah no, let me see – Bruce, stop blocking me man, I think I can repair it myself…what? Sit over there? – I'm gonna tell Alfred you're bullying me…c'mon Bruce pleaseeee? Just lemme take a look at it…"

* * *

**Universe 3576: Gotham City (years later)**

Batman and Robin started the night with foiling a mugging attempt at an alley near Powers Industries. Nothing unusual, just a petty crook trying to shake down an office lady coming from work. Small fry, something easy for Jason to work his way up to. Batman knocked out the first crook and glared the second into submission. Robin had already pinned the third to the wall with a few well-placed batarangs before turning his attention to the second, still frozen in place by Batman's glare. He snuck up behind the crook and tapped him on the shoulder. "Boo."

The crook's scream of terror was mercifully cut short by Robin's punch to the face. The young sidekick then began tying up the three crooks up while Batman reported to the Cave, alerting Alfred to call the cops. Once done, Jason turned to Bruce. "Where next?"

"Convenience store three blocks down. Robbery in progress."

But Robin had already fired his grapple gun at the top of the adjacent building, zipping up the line towards the roof. "What?! Can't hear you, old man! Anyway, race you there!"

Batman grumbled to himself as he shot a line at the building as well, following after his young charge. Alfred's voice chimed into his earpiece, a distinct whimsical tone to it. "I suppose if you're an old man, then that would make me a relic, Master Bruce."

"I think the term here is 'dinosaur', Alfred," Bruce replied, smirking.

"Just for that you can patch up your uniform on your own tonight, sir." Alfred paused for a while before speaking again. "Master Bruce, I'm receiving a message from Master Richard…he's in the area and wonders if you and Master Jason would mind some assistance on your patrol."

Bruce was quiet as he processed this new info. He had grudgingly understood that his oldest boy was on his way to becoming a man. While he privately respected, no, supported Dick's decision to strike out on his own as Nightwing, the argument between both father and son had been harsh, and it still struck a raw nerve with each of them. Both knew that it would take time for that wound to heal.

Still, Bruce recognised the olive branch for what it was, and truth be told, he had missed his boy. Trying (and failing) to maintain his usual authoritative voice, he spoke. "Tell Nightwing to meet us at Checkpoint A/32. We'll see how it goes from there."

"Of course, Master Bruce." Batman didn't miss the hint of the smile in Alfred's voice. "Robin!" he called out.

The Boy Wonder nimbly twisted in mid-somersault such that he was facing Batman. "Yeah?"

"Change of plans. We're heading to A/32. Nightwing will meet us there."

"Dick's gonna be there? That's aweso - uh, I mean…whatever, you know? Who cares?"

Under his cowl, Bruce raised an eyebrow at Jason. Despite his casual nonchalance, Jason's body language and the glint in his eyes betrayed excitement. He would never admit it of course, but he couldn't wait to meet up with his big brother.

* * *

Nightwing was surveying the buildings below when Batman and Robin landed just behind him. "Think you guys are gonna like this one," he said as he scanned the area below. "I just got a tip-off from one of my informants in Bludhaven that there's a crew in town trying to rip off First Central Bank."

Robin snorted in disbelief. "Really? First Central doesn't have a lot of cash reserves or valuables; it's just an old bank."

Dick nodded. "Yep, which is why it doesn't have much in the way of burglary prevention measures either. It's quite a big crew too. That much manpower…looks to me that they want to cart away everything inside, down to the last penny."

He smirked as he carried on. "What they don't know though is that First Central has a lot of hidey-holes for people like us, who just happen to like to sneak in and take them out one by one from the hidey-holes."

"There's still a lot of 'em. Like, 15 of them."

Nightwing grinned as he unclipped the small pouch he had slung on his shoulder. "Yeah, don't worry about that. I got just the thing," he said as he took out a small sphere and tossed it at a bewildered Robin.

"What's this?"

"Throw it onto the ground. You'll see."

Batman looked on, bemused, as Robin did so. The boy yelped in surprise as the sphere exploded in a thick large cloud of smoke, covering him thoroughly. "I see you managed to engineer your own smoke pellets from my schematics," he remarked to Nightwing, the gruff tone of his voice not quite managing to hide the tinge of pride in it.

"Yeah…took me a long time though, and I don't think the quality is as good as yours. Still, they do the job well enough," the younger man said, shrugging. He watched in amusement as Robin got over his initial shock and fumbled around in the bag for more of the pellets.

Jason looked like Christmas had come early for him. "Smoke bombs? For real, Dick?"

Dick nodded. "Yep."

"Shut up," he said in gleeful disbelief as he threw one onto the ground. "THIS – IS THE BEST DAY – OF MY LIFE!" he yelled as he threw smoke bombs on the ground in abandon, disappearing and reappearing at different locations.

"Robin, stop!" yelled an exasperated Nightwing. Robin simply smirked at him, before dropping a final smoke bomb onto the ground, disappearing into a puff of smoke. He reappeared beside Nightwing, hugging his big brother. "I love you man!"

"Just don't waste these things, Jay," Dick muttered, shaking his head in resignation. "We're supposed to use them to take down the crooks."

"Oh yeah." Robin immediately started gathering all the smoke bombs. "You don't mind if I take these all for myself right? Course you don't. Thanks, big bro. You're the best!"

Dick grumbled to himself as he took position beside the waiting Batman, who had observed the whole thing with a smirk. "Ready?" asked Bruce.

"Yeah. Let's just start without him," Dick replied as he swan dived off the parapet.

"Wha – hey, Batman! Nightwing! Wait up! Don't start without me!"

* * *

"Well, I gotta get back to Bludhaven," Nightwing remarked about an hour later as he dusted his hands, having just observed GCPD officers escort the last of the trussed up crooks into the police vans. "I've got work tomorrow."

"Don't stay up too late. I know your shift starts early on Wednesdays."

"Yeah, yeah I know," Dick said distractedly before he suddenly froze. He turned to Bruce, his jaw open. "Wait, how do you know that? Bruce…are you keeping tabs on me?"

Bruce's face grimaced as he decided how to reply. He knew that Dick and Alfred were in regular contact. He also knew, via Alfred's hinting, that Dick went to Alfred for advice regularly, but that the person that Dick really wanted advice from was him.

So he had asked Alfred to continue as an intermediary, giving his son the best advice his could via Alfred, as long as the butler made sure to leave him out of their conversations. He didn't want Dick to think that he didn't trust him enough to take care of himself, but…

"Alfred updates me regularly."

"…why?"

Bruce was quiet before he spoke again. "I was worried. I still worry for you."

"Bruce…"

"Dick," Bruce said as he removed his cowl and looked Dick in the eye, "I don't doubt that you can take care of yourself. You've proven yourself to be an intelligent and independent young man. You've led the Teen Titans very competently for a while now. I just…wanted to make sure that you were doing well."

"Bruce, I -"

The older man gave a wry smile. "I didn't expect these words to come out of my mouth, but…you'll find in time that you never stop worrying about your children. Even if you've raised them the best you can, even when they succeed in everything they do, you'll still worry about them."

Bruce let the unspoken sentence hang in the air. _Because you'll always love them._

"I – thanks, Bruce. Me too."

Somewhere in a dark cave, an old butler leaned back in his chair and gave a satisfied smile. He watched as Bruce's face broke into an uncharacteristic grin. "Come back home sometime, I'll be waiting for you."

Before the moment got too sappy for him, Bruce slipped on the mask of the Dark Knight, offering an outstretched hand to Nightwing. "Good working with you, Nightwing," he said gruffly.

Nightwing stared at the hand before grinning cheekily. "C'mere," he said as he engulfed his father in a bear hug. "I missed you too, ya big softie."

Batman growled and grumbled, threatening bodily harm upon his eldest as he struggled to escape his son's enthusiastic embrace. But seeing that Dick wasn't going to let go anytime soon, Bruce gave up and gingerly hugged his son back. It was a perfect moment until –

"Gaaaaaayyyyyy."

Count on Jason to spoil the moment. "Man, you dorks are so lame," Jason chuckled as he teased his father and brother mercilessly. "Are you guys auditioning for a Pixar movie or something?"

Dick grinned at Bruce as he let the older man go, advancing with his arms outstretched towards the unsuspecting Jason who was still talking to himself.

"I mean, you guys would be perfect for that type of movie…like maybe the UP sequel. I mean, Bruce is already the cranky old man and Dick gets super enthusiastic about EVERYTHI – wait, wait…Dick, what are you doing? Wait no no no I don't wanna hug! Dick I swear to you if you hug me I will punch you so hard! I'm serious, man, don't come near me! …ARGH! Gerroff me man, you reek! Why are you sweating so much it's gross! LEMME GO DICK!"

* * *

Elsewhere, a loyal butler whistled quietly to himself as he commandeered a Justice League satellite (sponsored by Wayne Enterprises, naturally) and zoomed in on a hugging Batman and Nightwing. Making sure he had the perfect angle, Alfred instructed the satellite to snap a picture of father and son. Having done that, he retrieved the image, keeping the original while mailing the copy to an unknown recipient.

* * *

**Universe 3576: Metropolis**

Lois was jolted awake by the shrillest, high-pitched squeal she had ever heard. It came from Lois's spare room, which her guests were sharing for the night. She grumbled as she gingerly picked her way through the corridors, littered with evidence of the impromptu sleepover she had hosted, and stopped at the doorway.

"Whass goin' on?" she yawned loudly, scratching her butt.

Mera, who had been sleeping beside Diana, was grimacing and rubbing her ears, having borne the brunt of Diana's squeal. Carol had been sleeping at the other side of the room and was luckier. She too yawned as she replied to Lois's question.

"Alfred sent a picture of Bruce and Dick hugging to Diana, seems like the two patched things up between them. Bruce acting fatherly…Bruce showing worry for his son…you get the picture."

"Ah. I get it. Diana is crushing so hard on Bruce right now."

"He is so SWEEETTT!"


End file.
